Everything stops for tea
by lovable-hate
Summary: DAD'S ARMY CROSSOVER. When the Doctor and Martha are trapped in wartime Britain, they join Captain Mainwaring's home guard platoon. This should be good...
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so this idea is a little wacky. I decided to combine two of my favourite TV shows (dr who, dad's army) and this is what I came up with. I'm going to be honest, I have no idea where this is going but it should be interesting! For those of you who read my first two 10/Martha stories, I am working on the story about their life ect, and it should be up very soon.**

"What the devil do you think it is, Wilson?" Captain Mainwaring peered through his little, round glasses at the strange blue box standing in the middle of his church hall. It was tall- at least twice that of Mainwaring, but he always had been a very small man. It wasn't quite so many times wide- but you could never have called the Captain a slight man. He rubbed a rough hand over his smooth, bald head in puzzlement.

"I really haven't the slightest idea sir." The reply was one most people would expect to hear coming from a well brought up politician or perhaps a member of some stately family- not a tall, handsome, but none the less common man in badly fitting green uniform.

"Well that's no damn use!" Mainwaring paced along the outside of the box, sucking air in through his teeth as he went. "Slap bang in the middle of where the platoon are supposed to be drilling- they will be disappointed."

"Very," said Sergeant Wilson sarcastically. Mainwaring didn't seem to notice.

"I hope the owner of this box knows whose property he's invading. He's interrupting vital military training!"

"Well it's hardly vital, is it sir," said Wilson lazily. "I mean, today you were planning on giving a lecture on 'why Germans don't play cricket'."

"Hardly vital you say!" growled Mainwaring. "With Hitler poised across the channel ready to strike and it's hardly vital."

"I was just being optimistic sir, of all the days this… thing was planning on butting in like this it was lucky it was today!"

"Let's not have talk like that in this platoon Wilson," warned Mainwaring. "I'll have Corporal Jones replace you. At least he knows some fighting talk."

"Well-" But Wilson never finished his sentence. With a clatter of military boots, an old man dressed in the same green uniform and one stripe on his arms marched in whistling.

"Good evening Mr Mainwaring… Wilsy- blimey what's that then?"

"Good evening Jones," said Wilson with a charming smile. "How are you?"

"I'm very well thank you Wilsy," he turned to his Captain. "That's a bit in the way, isn't it? Looks a bit in the way anyway."

"It is," said Mr Mainwaring. "I plan to find the owner of this box and demand he remove it immediately."

"In the name of the King?" inquired Jones.

"Pardon?"

"Well sir, I've noticed, when you want something done, you put your hand on your hip like this-" he paused to demonstrate. "And you suck in your belly- your stomach sir, and you jut out your chin and you raise you voice and say 'in the name of the King!' - then whatever you want."

"Well, when it looks like the subject is disobedient, I do use the power I received from these three pips," said Captain Mainwaring smugly tapping his shoulder.

"Mmm," said Jones. "Never works though." Mainwaring's outraged retort was drowned out by the noise of two more soldiers' entering the building. The younger of the two rushed over to Sergeant Wilson.

"Uncle Arthur, Mum says you're to go back and tidy up your dirty dishes or she'll throw out your ration book." Wilson threw a hand to his head.

"Good Lord- I did tell the woman I'd be in a rush tonight… why can't she wash up my dishes for me it really is quite ridiculous."

"What ye got here then?" said a second voice. Everyone turned as James Frazer strode over to the strange blue box and rapped on it with his knuckles.

"We don't know," said Mainwaring impatiently. "Some fools dumped it here and interrupted vital military training."

"Why yon Germans don't play cricket," said Frazer sceptically. Mainwaring rose defensively, but the elderly Scotsman had already turned back to his comrades.

"It weren't 'ere this morning," said Jones. "I were here with Mrs Fox, I was and there weren't nothing 'ere then."

"And what were ye doing with Mrs Fox?" asked Frazer.

"I was just sort of showing her round the place, there weren't nothing in it, she was just curious… Mr Mainwaring he's fixing me with a suspicious eye, he always did have a suspicious eye… Mr Mainwaring he's upsetting me!"

"Pull yourself together you old fool," said Frazer sharply.

"Stop insinuating thing, you always did insinuate things…"

"It wasn't here when I arrived," said Wilson. "I've been here from five o'clock, in your office sir, and it wasn't there when I arrived."

"What were you doing in my office?" barked Mainwaring.

"Oh I was just tidying up this and that, sorting out paperwork, completely professional, of course…"

"He was writing Christmas cards," cut in Pike.

"Sir tell him to stop insinuating…"

"That's enough corporal!" Mainwaring barked. "Listen men, we need to get this shifted before the rest of the men arrive."

"But it says police," said Frazer, pointing. "We might get in trouble with the police."

"Police?" A new voice, a cockney voice joined in. "Listen to me, I swear, I didn't mean to it was an accident I was led there on false beliefs…"

Joe Walker, his army hat tilted to one side of his head, a cigarette clenched between his teeth hurried in the hall, looking from left to right. "Tell 'em I went that way or something…"

"Calm down Joe, its not the police," said Pike. "It's a police box." Walker touched his hat to prevent it from falling off his head and peered closely at the blue box.

"What's it for?" he asked curiously. "It's like one of them telephone things. But they're red…" He curled his hand round the handle and tugged at the door. It remained still.

"It's locked," said Frazer mournfully.

"Mr Mainwaring says he's going to move it in the name of the king," said Jones. A clatter of boots told the assembled soldiers that the remainder of the platoon were arriving. Mainwaring snapped into action.

"Jones, fall the men into three ranks. At the double."

"Fall into, at the double, three ranks!" bellowed the old corporal. Mainwaring turned to Wilson.

"Wilson, you will be sad to know I have been forced to postpone the cricket lecture until next week."

"Oh I am disappointed!"

"Please control yourself, Wilson, we don't want you showing to much emotion in front of the men."

"I'll try." Mainwaring turned round and addressed the men.

"Attention!" The men jumped into attention and then, one beat behind everyone else, so did Corporal Jones. He winced visibly. Mainwaring ignored him.

"Properly at ease, everybody. Now, it will not have escaped your notice that some kind of… box has miraculously appeared some time between five o'clock and five minutes ago. We need to get this shifted, or else-"

A sharp intake of breath from the back of the hall made Mainwaring stall and stutter to a halt. The verger, all decked out in his black robes and flat tweed hat, stepped forward.

"You're not allowed to bring unauthorised objects into the vicar's property… that's misuse of the church hall that is!"

"Leave us alone," said Jones. "You always were a trouble maker!"

"I'm not a trouble maker, you're the trouble maker…"

"I'm not a trouble maker-"

"Jones! I'll deal with this!" Mainwaring extracted his gun from his belt.

"Off you go!" The verger looked fearfully from the blue box to the barrel of the pistol, before hurrying off. Mainwaring's chest puffed visibly.

"That's sorted him," he said smugly.

"You did beautifully sir, beautifully," Jones gushed.

"Returning to the issue of the blue box. Now, first of all we need to figure out the best way to remove it."

"Actually sir, we better make sure it's nothing important before we chuck it somewhere, we don't want to be in trouble with the coppers you know what I'm saying?" Walker interrupted.

"Well there is some sense in that," admitted Mainwaring. "First issue… what is it?"

"Permission to speak sir!"

"Corporal."

"Well sir, I have been thinking of this issue for a long time, and I have come up with a solution."

"Go ahead," said Mannering.

"Well, I have deducted, after a long, hard session of thought," Jones paused. "I've forgotten."

"Some fool just dumped it here sir, that's all there is to it," said Frazer impatiently.

"Why is it locked then? And why does it say police?" Walker protested.

"Hey sir! Maybe its an secret weapon of war!" said Pike.

"I think that's highly unlikely," said Mainwaring smoothly.

"Why?" Pike stepped forward. "Shoot it Mr Mainwaring!"

"You stupid boy."

"You're entitled to! Shoot it!"

"It's just a box," he said. "Nothing worth wasting bullets on."

"Sir, has it occurred to you that there may be people inside?" Wilson said mildly.

"Now, there's hardly room, is there Wilson," said Mainwaring sceptically.

"Well you have heard of the Trojan horse… maybe it's bigger on the inside."

"Don't be daft," said Mainwaring.

"There could be spies in there, though," reasoned Frazer. "If you let spies go free," he paused to chuckle. "You'll be shot!"

Mainwaring rapped it with his knuckles.

"In the name of the King, I demand you open this door." No answer. He looked behind him. Back me up, Wilson," he said. Wilson stepped nearer.

"Do as he says… you brutes." Mainwaring rolled his eyes, and pressed his ear to the door.

"I hear movement," he hissed. "Surround it, draw your guns." Taking his pistol from his belt again he rapped on the door.

"In the name of the King-" The lock clicked. Mainwaring leapt back, and clicked back the hammer of his gun. The door swung open slowly, the men closed in…

"Oh!" Peering out the door was a pretty, dark skinned girl. Her hair was pulled back in a shocking bun and she was wearing the strangest clothes Mainwaring had ever seen on a women. She looked them up and down, her eyes lingering on their guns. "Hello."

**What do you think? Should I carry on? Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Firstly, thanks to those of you who reviewed the first chapter- even though you haven't heard of Dad's army. For a description of the characters (so you might understand it more) visit my profile. **

Martha stared at the men pointing old-fashioned guns at her and swallowed. The leader- the Captain of the soldiers was short and fat with little round glasses sitting on a piggy little nose.

"Why… how…" he mumbled. She flushed uncomfortably, and her eyes shifted over him. Just behind him stood a tall, tanned man with thick white hair and a sergeant's stripe on the arm of his uniform. Despite his age he was very handsome, if a little confused. This didn't prevent him from smiling charmingly at her.

"Hello," he replied. A man barged his way to the front of the crowd, a man with equally white hair and cheekbones that jutted out of his face like knives. He also had a very prominent nose.

"What is yon lassie doing here?" he asked. Scottish, she realised. She was about to answer, when another good-looking man barged his way in front.

"Don't speak to her like that Taffy, it ain't polite." He turned round to look at her. "You alright darling you look a bit confused."

"I'm fine," she replied. "Where am I?"

"What do you mean where am I?" scoffed the short fat man. "The question is why are you here?"

"I-"

"Warbington-on-sea church 'all," said the cockney again. "What's your name?"

"Martha," she replied automatically. "Martha Jones."

"Oh what a pretty name!" The older handsome one smiled at her again.

"Thanks," she said.

"And that jacket you're wearing is such a pretty colour! It really does bring out the colour of your eyes!"

"Really?" she asked. He nodded earnestly. His voice sounded very upper class.

"There's no time for all that!" the short man barked again. "Do you realise young lady, you are interrupting vital military training!"

"Oh," Martha said, her eyes travelling doubtfully over the soldiers. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough! I have a good mind to report you to GHQ! I won't have any of your foreign tricks-"

"I'm British," snapped Martha, treating the man to a withering glare. "I'm as British as you are. Now tell me where the hell I am before I slap you." Then she flushed. She hadn't meant to lose her temper like that. They'd just left 1913, with all the racism, all the taunts. All she wanted was to go back to the twenty-first century or beyond when the colour of her skin didn't matter. And now she was here. Wherever here was.

"Permission to speak, sir!" An old man with a small white moustache jumped his way towards the front. He swivelled round and bowed to Martha. "Corporal Jack Jones," he said with a wink.

"Pleased to meet you," Martha said.

"Permission granted, Jones," said the Captain.

"Mr Mainwaring I think that was quite rude." Captain Mainwaring looked taken aback. His mouth opened a few times in shock and dismay and the angry words that looked ready to spring from his lips fizzled into nothing.

"Uh, yes," he mumbled. "Maybe I have been a little dis-courteous…" He turned back to Martha. "I suppose what I meant was would you mind… moving this… thing." Martha stepped out the TARDIS and shut the door behind her, being careful to shield the men from the view of the interior of the ship.

"I can't," she said. "Not on my own." 

"We could help," said the cockney. "We're pretty strong."

"I'm sure you are," said Martha, flirting a little with the man. He smiled appreciatively and clasped her hand in a firm shake. "Joe Walker. Essential sales supplier."

"What he means," cut in another man, younger than Martha- nineteen? "Is he's black market." 

"I ain't black market, I just got good contacts…"

"Black market?" said Martha. "You're soldiers…"

"Actually we're not real soldiers," drawled the handsome man who had complimented her earlier. "We're home guard."

"Home guard?" Martha's mind was spinning. "Hang on… what year is it again?"

"What sort of a damn fool question is that?" barked Captain Mainwaring. His Sergeant glared at him.

"Really sir that's no way to talk to a lady."

"It's 1941," said Jack Jones (the corporal).

"1941," said Martha, her hope sinking. "Right." Joe Walker seemed to notice her disappointment and touched her arm gently.

"It's all right Martha. You lost or something?"

"No…" Martha took in a deep breath. Two hours ago they had left 1913 with Tim and Joan Redfern and Farrigham's school for boys behind them and they both could have been in higher spirits. Martha had had a long hot shower and a private sob that the Doctor had pretended not to hear, while he had sat in the console room moping a little bit. Finally, he had made bacon sandwiches and they had shared a quiet hug. Then she had gone to bed, exhausted after three months of getting up at six every morning and fallen asleep straight away. So being woken up by a bunch of 'home guard' was not how she wanted the rest of the day to go.

"Why did you take this box into the church hall with you?" asked Mainwaring. Martha avoided the question.

"I'm looking for someone," she said. "He's tall, skinny, mid thirties, manic spiky hair… he was with me and he's just wandered off. He'll be able to move the TAR- the box."

"Will he have gone far?" asked the Scottish bloke fixing her with his dark beady eyes. Martha sighed.

"With him, you never know," she said honestly. "But he won't have gone too far, I don't think."

"And he'll be able to move the box," said Mainwaring. Martha nodded.

"Yes." Mainwaring puffed out his chest.

"Mission! Find this man! Number one platoon; stay here in the church hall. Number two platoon, from the novelty rock emporium to Timothy White's. Number three platoon, from Godfrey's cottage to the pier. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" came the mumbles. Mainwaring nodded approvingly. "Dismissed." Martha watched as the elderly men filtered out of the church hall, until only a few of them were left, including the cockney Joe, the Sergeant, Jack Jones and the Scotsman. Mainwaring nodded at her and smiled.

"Never fear, Miss Jones. We'll find this man you're looking for in no time. My platoon is amongst the best."

"I'm sorry I'm late sir?" A croaky voice sounded at the back of the hall and a very old man clutching a medical bag wandered in.

"Godfrey! Where have you been? The parade started ten minutes ago!"

"I'm very sorry Captain Mainwaring, there was an awfully long wait at the clinic, I have a touch of gout in one foot and I needed some treatment. Shall I put the kettle on?"

"I suppose so," said Mainwaring. "Off you go Godfrey." He nodded and walked out the hall. Martha, feeling self conscious with all the eyes trained on her moved to the stage at the front of the hall and sat down on the steps, her head resting on her hands. Out the corner of her eye she could see Joe Walker walking over to her.

"Where you from then, Martha?" he asked breezily, sitting down beside her.

"London."

"Snap," he smiled. "Whereabouts?"

"Outskirts," she said dully. Walker studied her face.

"You all right?" he asked. "You got shadows under your eyes." She found herself snapping at him.

"I'm fine!" He hesitated, stunned by her harsh retort. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not in a good mood today it's been a long few months. I'm just glad it's over…" her voice trailed into nothingness. Walker frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"It's hard to explain," Martha said. "I had a position… in a school… like a maid or a servant…"

"Let me guess," said Walker. "Stuffy, upper-class kids who like tormenting people for fun."

"Yeah," said Martha, smiling a little at him. "Those kind of kids."

"So what you doing in Warbington-on-sea, then?" he asked. Martha shrugged, deciding to give the bloke a chance.

"Sight seeing?" she offered. He seemed amused by her answer.

"Good luck with that!" An older man- the Sergeant joined them. He waved at her and smiled.

"I just wanted to say I meant every word about that gorgeous jacket of yours. It's so… fitted. So different to what most ladies wear." Martha smiled tightly.

"Thanks," she said. "I guess I push the boundaries a little."

"And the way you do your hair… it's incredible. How do you do it?"

"Why do you want it that way Uncle Arthur?" Martha looked up to the see the young boy joining them. He waggled his pale fingers at her shyly. The sergeant ignored him.

"So are you staying in town long?"

"Most definitely not," said Martha firmly. "I'm going as far away from England as possible."

"In the war?" asked the young boy. "That's impossible!"

"No it's not," said Martha. "Not when you're travelling with the Doctor. He can take me anywhere."

"The furthest away you're getting from England in Scotland, love," joked Walker, inhaling on his cigarette.

"Nought wrong with Scotland," said the Scotsman, drifting over to the small gathering of people forming around the steps.

"I'm not saying there is," said Martha. He glared at her with his piercing eyes and she flinched. He snorted and left them. Martha sighed. 1913, all over again. Why couldn't these people just get over it?

"Don't worry about him, he's alright once you get to know him. Miserable old sod, of course, but alright," said Walker.

"Frazer's very… aloof sometimes," said the Sergeant. "But you mustn't pay any attention to him. By the way, my dear," he touched his hat. "Arthur Wilson."

"And my name's Frank," said the young one. "Frank Pike."

"Nice to meet you," said Martha politely. "So you're called Mr Walker-"

"That's Joe to you, darling," said Joe. She smiled, enjoying all the positive attention after weeks of being either avoided or tormented in that school.

"Joe then. Arthur Wilson. Or should I say Sergeant?"

"Arthur," Sergeant Wilson said immediately. "If you like." She turned to the younger boy.

"Frank," she said. Pike's chest swelled. "That's Frazer. That's… Jones?"

"He's a nutter, but he's harmless," said Joe.

"And who was the bloke who came in late? I think he went to make tea?"

"That's Charlie," said Joe. "Charlie Godfrey. Again, harmless."

"And you're home guard," said Martha. "So, soldiers, but not real soldiers."

"What do you mean, not real soldiers!" barked Captain Mainwaring across the hall. "We're just as real as the ones of the front line of fighting, I'll have you know."

"And he's Captain Mainwaring," said Martha. "I don't think I'll call him by his first name. Wilson nodded.

"I think you're very wise."

"Wilson! Jones!" Mainwaring barked. "I need support! There is an intruder in my office!"

!

**What d'you think? Remember, reviews please!**


	3. Chapter 3

AN HOUR OR SO EARLIER:

"Martha!" The Doctor strolled across the TARDIS in search of his companion. He was worried about her. When he'd returned from his slow, stupid, human state a few hours ago it had been ok. He's blown up the family's ship, sorted them out and said goodbye to the now mildly annoying Joan Redfern. They'd had a hug, him and Martha, and she's announced she was going to have a shower. He'd nodded, and left her to it. That was an hour and a half ago, and Martha Jones had not yet emerged.

The Doctor had all three months of his memory intact and he remembered how Martha had been treated in 1913. No, how he had treated her in 1913. "Cultural differences," he'd mouthed to Nurse Redfern, as if he pitied her. Pitied her for something she should be proud of! He'd manhandled the small woman out of his office, he'd scorned her opinions, ignored her.

"Your favourite servant seems to have forgotten her place," the headmaster had said. And he's just nodded, because he agreed with the naïve man! He passed her everyday, scrubbing floors, cleaning, cooking, serving him and had he thanked her once? Never. But she'd greeted him every time he'd passed and he barely bothered to reply! And why should he? He was a British, white, teacher and she was a 'foreign' black servant. Why should he even know her name?

If it were anybody else, they would have abandoned him. Even Rose, anyone would have stormed out in disgust and abandoned John Smith as a human. He would have abandoned him! But Martha Jones just put up with his petty beliefs, his downright rude attitude towards her. He'd never seen her cry, never seen her lash out in anger, never seen her anything but slightly upset- and hiding it as well. Of course, as John

The Doctor hated himself.

He reached the door of her room and paused apprehensively. Despite both of them obstinately refusing to accept the fact, there was some sort of barrier that now existed between them following the events of 1913 and the Doctor hated it. He swallowed and tapped gently on the door. There was no answer.

"Marthaaaa," he said softly, his lips pressed against the door. "Martha, are you ok in there?" Still no reply. His converses shuffled against the floor and he chewed his lip. Was she ignoring him? He tapped against the door again, then sighed, and pushed open the door. And there she was.

She was lying, eagle spread and fast asleep, across the bed in clean clothes, her hair soft from a recent shower. The hairdryer lay by the bed, still connected to the wall by the cord and a damp towel was crumpled on the end of her bed. The Doctor noticed the heavy maid's uniform folded clumsily on the bright sofa in the corner of her room. He padded over to her and peered into her face. Her eyes were lined with dark shadows, tired, exhausted Martha. There was only so much one human, no matter how invincible, how alive, could take.

With a heavy heart, the Doctor reluctantly lifted her up so he could peel away her jacket. She moaned in quiet protest in the walls of her dreams but didn't wake up. Reassured she was in a heavy slumber, her tucked her under the covers, propping up her head on the pillows. He half wanted her to wake up, and then he could talk to her. But he forced such selfish emotions down and after kissing the tip of her nose, he flicked off the lights and tiptoed out of her bedroom. He was glad she was getting some rest, he really was. But he still wanted her to wake up.

!

The TARDIS was not a happy bunny. Instead of the comforting hums and occasional swooshes she made, the Doctor could hear a high-pitched whine. His brow furrowing, his laid his hands on the console, stroking it soothingly.

"You ok, old girl?" he whispered. She was tired too, even tireder, he thought, than Martha. But it was more than that. He rushed around the room, flicking switches, pulling leavers, kicking this that and the other- as if any of it would tell him anything. Then, a moan. A loud, long moan- the same moan he had heard from Martha when she's drunk too much on the planet Tyriu and woke up with that hangover. He had avoided her all day long after that, the effects of alcohol on humans made it rather pointless in his opinion.

He licked his lips nervously and checked the readouts on the small screen. Nothing out of the ordinary. He wondered what the cause of her apparent distress was. Probably nothing. He was about to shrug it off, when the TARDIS suddenly smashed into something, causing the whole time machine to shudder and quake. The Doctor stumbled backwards, tipping over the chairs as lights flashed on and off above his head.

"No!" he cried. "Stop!" The TARDIS has gone into frenzy, shaking and pulsing. The Doctor raced to stabilize her, flicking this and that, kicking and punching again, his teeth clenched, his bruised limbs throbbing. Hearing a yelp from Martha's room, followed by a crash, the Doctor intensified his actions, picked up the pace.

"Come on come on come on come on!" he yelled in frustration. He snatched a look over his shoulder. "It's ok, Martha," he called. "I'm sorting it out!" He didn't pause to see if she'd heard him, he couldn't. Then, like a puppet whose strings had been jerked suddenly taut, the TARDIS froze. The Doctor stopped dead still, listening to his panting breaths in the eerie silence. Silence, because the TARDIS was making no noise. No humming, no pounding, no gentle thoughts inside his head. Nothing.

Then she plummeted towards the floor like the puppet's strings had been cut.

The Doctor hurled himself against the consoles, but there was no reply, she was completely dead. Desperate, frantic, panicked, the Doctor raced towards Martha's room.

"Martha!" he yelled. "Get your arms over your head! Get down… you need to protect your neck!" A violent shudder sent him sprawling across the ground and he was hurled beneath the metal mesh of the floor. He raised his head to look up, and with a splintering crunch, the TARDIS landed.

The Doctor lay, trembling for a few seconds before he got up. He brushed his suit down, tousling his hair with a careless hand and touching a stabbing cut on the side of his head. The first thing he did was take in a gasping breath, the second was look around the TARDIS, and the third was to remove himself from his uncomfortable position.

The TARDIS seemed to be undamaged (she was surprisingly enduring) but she seemed… dead. There were no lights, there we no sounds, and it was suddenly very cold. Very cold and very dark. "Martha," the Doctor muttered, and then he was running to her room. He pushed the door open and saw her flopped down, half on her bed, half on the floor, her head lolled backwards, her eyes half shut. His hearts jumped in his chest and he rushed over to her.

"Martha!" Her head moved forward slightly, her pupils were defocused.

"Uh… Do'ah," he mumbled. Concussion. He took her face in his cool hands and spoke gently to her.

"Alright?" She twisted her head away from his, groaning slightly under her breath. She was going to pass out any second. The Doctor checked her for broken bones- there were none- and a quick scan from his sonic showed there was no internal bleeding. He bet she had a splitting headache thought.

"Do'ah," she was trying to speak, but she was dropping off. She shook her head, her eyes narrowing, frustrated with herself. The Doctor gently manoeuvred her back onto the bed and she sagged in his arms. He brushed away her hair and lay her down.

"Hush," he said. "It's ok. The TARDIS crashed. No damage- not even you. Not much, anyway. I'm going to get an icepack for your head, ok?"

"Mmm… yeah…" He kissed the top of her head and left the room. He padded across the TARDIS in search of some ice and returned a few minutes. He sat by her bed, pressing the icepack against her head, talking to her soothingly. Her eyelids fluttered when he was halfway through telling her about a selection of strange customs on various planets when and she was asleep.

He laid down the ice on the side of her bed and sat, stroking the back of her hand, deep in thought. He wondered where he was. Where they were, even. His palms were itching- he was desperate to go and explore. He snorted at the thought that some humans believed that an itchy palm was a method of calculating monthly income.

"Humans." He squeezed Martha's hand and got up. He promised himself that he'd just peek outside, literally peek, just to make sure they were somewhere safe (i.e., not in the middle of a raging battle or hanging off a cliff or something equally undesirable) and then return to Martha. Skipping- no literally, slipping- across the floor and flicking open the TARDIS door. He sighed.

Instead of the weird, alien atmosphere he'd been readying himself for, there was an utterly mundane, disgustingly dull village hall. He sighed in disappointment. A nice little alien invasion was exactly what he and Martha needed to break the tension caused after months of her being his maid. Uh. Maid. He hated that word.

He stepped out of the ship and studied the room. The clock said it was three thirty and the hall was deserted. Crossing the wooden floor and reaching the bulletin board, the Doctor cast an idle eye across the posters.

"Dig for victory," he read aloud. "Keep calm and carry on. How to move around in the blackout…" They were in wartime Britain. Not the most interesting place in the world… quite commonplace compared to where he had been planning on heading towards. He wandered through a small door leading to a small room and shut it behind him. "Oh!"

!

"Doctor!" Martha raced across the hall and pushed past Captain Mainwaring (much to his displeasure) throwing herself into the basic office. And there he was, sitting on the chair, his feet propped up on the table, reading a magazine.

"Ah, fantastic Martha," he said, jumping up and hugging her gently.

"Doctor! You cut your face! What happened?"

"Oh, I've already forgotten about that, actually. Nothing major; doesn't even hurt. What about you? Are you ok now? I was more than a little worried."

Martha flushed. Had he heard her crying?

"Why wouldn't I be ok?" she asked airily. Her voice trembled. His eyes narrowed.

"You hit your head pretty hard, Martha."

"I did?" She prodded at the tender flesh on the side of her face. "I thought it stung a bit."

"You don't remember?" He looked concerned.

"Nah. I guess I got a bit of concussion. But," she smiled clumsily. "I'm fine now. Honest. What happened?"

"Hey," said a voice. "Hey, that's my magazine!"

"Oh this?" said the Doctor, looking over Martha's head at the young bloke elbowing his way through the door. "I borrowed it. Sorry."

"I hadn't even finished it yet," he wined. "Uncle Arthur, you tell him."

"It's quite all right, Frank," said Wilson soothingly. "I'm sure the man's going to return it."

"Um, Doctor, this is Frank Pike and this is Arthur Wilson." The Doctor waved cheerfully at them.

"You read page 47 yet?" he asked Pike, who shook his head sullenly. "Aww, it's brilliant. B-r-illiant. How people come up with these things I will never know. Here you are." He held out the wad of papers and Pike snatched it close to his chest. He nodded at the Doctor and smiled shyly at Martha. She smiled back, and rolled her eyes at the Doctor, who smirked.

"So," said the Doctor. "Where are we then?"

"Warbington-on-sea church hall," Martha replied. "1941."

"God not you as well," Mr Mainwaring barged past everyone (the platoon had gathered round the door in curiosity) brandishing his balled fist. "Listen sir, I demand you tell us who you are and what your game is and why you are trespassing on military grounds." The Doctor blinked.

"Well my name's the Doctor and this is Martha- have you met Martha? I suppose you have… anyway, I'm the Doctor and I'm not playing any game. Although we could! If you like! What do you like, I like cricket! And running- we do a lot of running her, and me her and me do. Though that's not much of a game… I can play Grilly- though that doesn't really catch on in Earth until about ooooooooooooh… the twenty third century? So, to recap, I'm not playing any game." He looked around cordially. "Sorry, what was the last question again?"

"Why man, I asked why you were trespassing on military property," Mainwaring growled.

"S'more church property isn't it," said the Doctor. "Look there's a hymn book in her… and a church next door- and some half written Christmas cards. That's a Christian celebration, you know."

"But why-"

"Oh, well we brought the TARDIS here, completely by accident by the way, I got the right time, wrong galaxy if you follow my drift, and I just fancied a little nosy before we left."

"Doctor, this is Captain Mainwaring," Martha said. "They're home guard."

"Oh! I thought some of them were the wrong age for soldiers- you know what, that explains everything." Mainwaring closed his eyes despairingly.

"I rather think that the Captain would like it if you moved your blue box. Martha said that you would be able too," said Wilson.

"Here, sarge," cried a voice, and Joe Walker pushed his way to the front of the bundle. "Sarge, this bloke's ain't got a scrap o' mea' on 'im, 'e won't 'ave no chance moving that thing." The Doctor looked offended, but Martha took his hand to prevent him from protesting.

"This is Joe Walker," she said calmly. "Joe, this is the Doctor."

"Nice to meet you, I'm sure… but seriously Martha how we gonna move that thing? Me and Taffy just tried and it's bloody heavy. Barely moved it off the floor. What's it for, anyways?"

"Oh, this and that," said the Doctor. "Y'know. Basic stuff."

"Please just get it out of my sight," said Captain Mainwaring. "The… girl said you were able to move it and you bloody well better be able to."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Well the thing is, I can't really."

"What!" Martha and Mainwaring spoke in unison. "Doctor, why not?" asked Martha.

"Well, it's a teensy bit broken. We sort of crashed."

"Is that how I…" Martha gestured to her head. "And you…" she pointed at his.

"Yep. We were in orbit and there was this whining noise and then we sort of… crashed. You were unconscious for a bit."

"Well I'm fine now," she said defensively.

"I'm sure you are," he reassured her.

"Martha, what are you talking about," said Joe nervously. The Doctor didn't give her a chance to answer.

"I need to fix the TARDIS," he said.

"How long will that take?" He mumbled something under his breath. She raised her eyebrows, and he raised his voice.

"Month."

"A month!"

"Maybe just under. She's in catatonic shock."

"A bloody month…" Martha ran a hand through her hair. "Doctor, this better be a joke, this really better be a joke."

"I don't find it funny," said Mainwaring. "You're saying you can't move it?"

"Permission to speak sir!"

"What is it Jones," said Mainwaring. Jones joined Joe in the doorway and smiled jollily around at everyone.

"I have a bit of an idea."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, so before I wrote this I told myself this wouldn't become a romance. After reading this chapter I realised that it was heading that way, so I have decided to embrace it! Sorry if romance isn't your thing, but I just can't help myself. Also, you may have noticed, that Joe is the main character in a lot of the chapters. That is because he is my favourite in the show and I kind of have a bit of a schoolgirl crush on him. Yes, I know he died over 30 years before I was born, but I can't help it! I have a freaky thing about cockney's with big brown eyes. In an unrelated note, I was excited for hours yesterday because, while watching part of the royal wedding, I noticed someone in the choir who's a David Tennant looky likey!**

"I reckons I can pu' ya up fer the nigh' Martha," said Joe as they sat in the back of Jones's butchers lorry. Martha nodded.

"Thanks Joe," she said. "Kind of you, I'm sure."

"And this Doctor bloke," said Joe, gesturing forward, at the cab at the front of the van where Captain Mainwaring, Sergeant Wilson and the Doctor were sat. "I reckons I can pu' 'im up if you likes."

"Thanks. I suppose you'd better."

"You're still mad a' 'im," said Joe.

"Yep."

"Shame," said Joe, seeming to relish the idea. "Ah well, never mind, ay?" Martha smiled at the man.

"Joe I have a question," said Martha. "And this may sound really, really stupid."

"Go on."

"Why are we travelling in the back of an old-fashioned butcher's van?" Joe gave her a strange look.

"T'aint tha' old fashioned darling. Pretty new this is, relatively."

"Course it is," said Martha, cursing herself silently in her head. "Why are we travelling in the back of a new fashioned butchers van then?" Joe chuckled.

"We ain't real solders. Not proper soldiers, anyways, no matter what Mainwaring says. So we aren't authorised to a decent army van what-a-ma-call. And Jonesy had this little beauty for years but since the war 'e can't get petrol off the ration. So I says to Jonesy here, Jonesy I says, we need transport, we can't go pedalling around on little bikes, y'know? So I says to him we stick some sandbags and that in it, some marble tiles, look we got little slots to stick our rifles out of and we got ourselves a little method of transport! And also, well I'm a busy man; I'm driving around a lot sorta deliverin' this an' tha' and it burns up petrol! And I need off the ration petrol to get these places. As a registered military vehicle we gets the petrol withou' the coupons so 'e can deliver 'is meat easier. So I gains, he gains and the platoon gains!"

"Very clever," Martha grinned. She was beginning to really like Joe Walker.

"Yeah, bit of a smart idea, if I does say so meself."

"Speaking of smart ideas," said Jones, crossing over to where they were sitting. "Wasn't half a bad idea using this to transport that blue telephone boxy… thing isn't it? I think Captain Mainwaring was quite impressed by that contribution."

"That's after you spent five minutes giving the background details before summing up the idea in a sentence," joked Joe. It was true; Martha had been shocked about how the old soldier could stretch out an explanation to such lengths.

"Ah, shut up Joe, I needed to make sure he understand properly, I had to explain it, I was giving a description."

"It was a good idea, Mr Jones," said Martha.

"Ah, just call me Jonesy everyone else does," said the old man cheerfully. Martha smiled at him. Jones was a friendly man with a twinkle in his eye and a permanent grin on his face.

"Alright," she said easily. "So you're a butcher, then?"

"My meats the best in the town," said Jones.

"Yer the only butcher in the down you ole duffer," smirked Joe, but he was grinning.

"Now don't you start-"

"Would anyone like an upside down cake?" It was Godfrey, his voice as dry as paper, as he popped open a little tin.

"Thank you Mr Godfrey," said Jones, carefully selecting a cake from the tin. "Ah, that's very nice that is."

"Cheers Mr G," said Joe. Martha took one too and took a bite from it.

"That's gorgeous!" she said. "Where did you get it?"

"Actually my sister Dolly made it," said Mr Godfrey. "She's got rather a gift with them."

"I can tell," said Martha.

"Oh! Can I have one Mr Godfrey?" Frank Pike stumbled over to where the cakes were being handed out and took one. A violent jerk of the truck sent the cakes flying from Godfrey's arms and splattered everywhere.

"You stupid boy," said Jones.

"Yeah, Spikey, you ruined a nice batch of ole Mrs Godfrey's cakes," said Joe, gently slapping the boy's hand with his flat cap.

"Sorry Mr Godfrey. Sorry Joe."

"It's quite alright," said Godfrey. "But it does seem rather a waste, she used up her whole weeks butter ration on them. Very proud, Dolly was."

"Tell her they were delicious," said Martha.

"Thank you my dear, I dare say I will." He looked kindly at Martha, his face a picture of fatherly concern. "I suppose you need a place to stay tonight, I would be only too happy to offer-"

"S'alright Mr Godfrey, I've already offered her a spare room tonight," said Walker.

"Oh," said Godfrey. "And what about that rather tall young man?"

"Him too, mate, Martha's got it sussed."

"You're sleeping in the same house," said Frazer, walking slowly over to where the small crowd were gathering. "You and yon Doctor fellow?"

"Yes," said Martha. "What of it?"

"I don't see a ring!"

"Ah, leave off taffy, don't be so old fashioned," said Joe. Frazer pointed a knobbly finger in Joe's face.

"Death will come to ye if ye encourage unmarried couple to sleep together! It's wrong!"

"Wait, wait, wait," said Martha. "I think you've all got the wrong end of the stick."

"An' I donnae know what right you have to speak, young woman!" Frazer cried.

"Me and the Doctor aren't…" Martha waved her hands around in embarrassment. "Like that. We're just friends."

"Like me and Mrs Fox," said Jones. "We're just friends."

"Then why did I see her lying on top of you in that old air-raid shelter?" asked Joe cheekily. Jones flushed.

"Well she came over a bit faint," he mumbled. "I couldn't just leave her…"

"Enough said," Martha interrupted. "Me and the Doctor are really close but we'll never be a couple. He's in love with someone else."

"Aye"-chimed in Frazer. "Now, I'm not one for gossip, or tittle tattle of any kind, but who?"

"I don't think you know her," said Martha. "I don't even know her. But I'm happy with him and me as… mates. Just mates." But nobody believed her.

!

The men leapt out the van, holding their rifles and marching into three ranks. The Doctor and Martha stepped back, watching.

"This is brilliant," said the Doctor. "Don't you think this is brilliant?"

"What's brilliant?" asked Martha.

"Everything! These men, too old, too young, unfit, unwell, whatever. Had their flaws hurled in their face by officials, turned down for the army and what do they do? They start another one! Human ingenuity at it's greatest, Martha!" Martha thought of the creepy, wild-eyed Scotsman, the blustering Captain and the looming month ahead in this prejudiced society. Not even as a maid, when she was tucked away inside a school, and was mostly ignored. She would have to face up to the white local community with her head held high. She sighed.

"Yeah," she said. The Doctor looked at her strangely.

"Are you ok?" he asked warily.

"Tired," she said.

"Does you're head hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Martha!"

"Ok, ok. A little. But just a little and don't look at me like that, Doctor. You've got a lot of explaining to do so please don't test me."

"Said the true daughter of Francine Jones," laughed the Doctor, and Martha glared at him. Then she sighed.

"Come here you," she said, pulling him into a hug. She put all her smothered emotion from the past three (or rather, two a little bit) months into that embrace. Every time she saw him walking past and he never even stopped to say hi…

The Doctor held her reassuringly as she pulled herself together.

"Alright?" he said.

"You are so not off the hook," she mumbled in his ear.

"Oh, I know," he said. "I really, really know."

"See," whispered Frazer. "Not a couple, my arse."

"Shut up taffy, you don't even know the girl. Don't be harsh."

"Foreign girl, in those clothes, no ring on her finger with that long, fellow. Summat wrong. I don't like it."

"I think she's nice," said Frank loyally. "My Mum says-"

"Shut up you Jessie," Frazer said cruelly. "I don't like her. I don't like either of them."

!

Martha sighed and dumped her sopping wet jacket on the faded chair in the spare room of Joe Walker's house. She folded her arms across her chest, shivering and sat down, fingering her mobile.

"Alrigh' Martha, Doctor, this is yeh room, erm…" Joe coughed. "There's only one bed so I could sleep on the sofa or well…" he winked at Martha. "Pay me a visit." Martha smiled sweetly.

"I'll sleep on the chair," she said, pointing at the armchair she had just put her coat on. The Doctor frowned, and nearly spoke, but she stamped on his foot hard.

"Ok," said Joe, unfazed. "I'm going out now, delivering some… stuff to a… friend. I'll see you later. Oh and-" He paused before leaving the door. "Good night," he said, giving her an adorably crooked smile that should have turned her insides to butter but she felt nothing.

"Night Joe," she said. "Thanks for everything."

"Good night," the Doctor added, waving. They listened as Joe walked out the room, clattered down the stairs and slammed the door behind him.

"I'm not sleeping on the couch," said Martha.

"I know."

"You better know." It was dark now, very dark. After they had vacated the van, the men had towed the TARDIS across fields to an empty barn in the middle of nowhere. Martha hadn't seen the point of the spot the Doctor had chosen being so far away from civilisation; her jeans were coated in mud up to her knee and she was soaking after a heavy downpour of rain.

"You better get out of those wet clothes," said the Doctor. Martha hunched her shoulders defensively.

"I don't have anything else to wear," she said. "And they haven't invented power showers yet." The Doctor sighed and walked out the room. Martha stood, shaking, wondering where he was going. Was he pissed off with her? Had he stormed out? No, he returned, with some clothes in his arms.

"Here you are," he said.

"What's this?"

"I went downstairs, and I found Walker's products. There are some nightdresses and I also brought a towel from the bathroom." Martha accepted his offer and smiled her thanks.

"I'll put it on then," she said. The Doctor nodded and continued staring at her in a totally inconspicuous way. He raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"I'll go change in the bathroom," she said, leaving the room, flushing. She quickly changed and came back into the room ten minutes later.

"Ah, Martha!" he said. "Warmer, now?"

"Mmm warmer thank you," she replied. She yawned and crawled into the bed, crawling under the layers of thick blankets. The Doctor sat on the end of the bed threading the tassels of the top blanket together. There was a comfortable silence.

"So when are you going to have a go at me?" he inquired. She snuggled deeper under the covers.

"In the morning," she said sleepily. The Doctor kicked off his shoes and began to strip. Martha's eyes widened, but dropped when he stayed in his t-shirt and his boxers. He jumped on top of the bed and pulled the covers up so he could come under as well. Her heart rate quickened, and she quivered slightly.

"Ok," he said. She felt his breath tingle on her neck and her stomach leapt. The Doctor didn't even notice. "What shall we talk about?" Martha moved away from him so he wasn't touching her. He didn't get the message, moving with her and resting his head on her shoulder. "Martha?" She gasped, and stared into his deep brown eyes. She let out a kind of strangled cry, and blushed furiously.

"Yes," she squeaked.

"Can you give me a bit more of the covers please?"

!

When Martha awoke the next morning it was to an empty bed. She looked around groggily and stumbled to her feet. The clock said it was eight thirty in the morning. She grabbed a man's robe hanging on the back of the door and made her way downstairs.

The Doctor and Joe were sat at the table at the kitchen table, both fully dressed, looking at the newspaper. Both the men leapt up as she entered the room.

"Mornin' Martha," said Joe, waving at her cheerfully. "Good night? Not too uncomfortable on the couch?"

"It was fine, thank you," said Martha. She slid into a seat and looked at the paper. June the fourth, the paper said. She read the headline. "Clothes rationing?" Joe smiled and clapped his hands.

"All the more business for me," he said, grinning broadly. Martha smiled at him.

"Bad boy," she said. "It's not fair you know."

"It's for the benefit of my customers. Now clothing's on the ration, they'll come swarming." Martha sighed.

"I'm going to need some clothes if we're staying for a month," she said, purposefully jabbing the Doctor in his bony ribs. He winced and rubbed his hands along his suit.

"Martha, shall we go and look around for our own place today?" he asked. "Just to rent, you know. For the duration of the month."

"We have no money," she said. He nodded.

"I have a little bit," he said, showing her a slim wad of notes. She chewed her lip.

"We'll have to figure this out. Sensibly. Like adults."

"I can do that," said the Doctor. "I could do domestic… if I had to."

"Martha, you want an egg?" asked Joe. "Got some fresh today."

"How d'you do that?"

"I got me own chickens," said Joe without blinking.

"You don't even have a garden."

"They live in the bath."

"What!" Martha winced visibly. "You keep them in the bath."

"Yeah…"

"What happens when you need a bath?"

"I just take 'em out."

"You are such a lad," scorned Martha.

"I'm a bachelor," said Joe. "You could help me with that."

"Me and Martha will be moving out," said the Doctor. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Wait, have some breakfast," said Joe.

"I'm not hungry," said Martha. "I never have breakfast. I know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Doctor."

"So we'll be off then," said the Doctor, grabbing Martha's hand. "We'll go and get our stuff."

"I need to go to work," said Joe. "Martha love, help yourself to any clothes you can find round the house."

"Thank you Joe," said Martha. "I'll pay you when I've got the money, yeah?"

"Don't be thick," said Joe. "I'll see you later- I will see you later."

"Thanks again," said Martha, kissing him on the cheek. He winked at her, grabbed a briefcase, and left the house.

"Right then," said the Doctor. "I'll go and get your clothes, you get changed and we'll hit the road." He took her hand. She snatched it away.

"Why did you have to be so rude?" she hissed. "He was being lovely to us, especially with me being black and us to being married, and you have to treat him like that."

"Martha, he's just a spiv who dodges the law and tried to take advantage of you."

"Tried to take advantage… Doctor, I can hold my own. He was just joking around, he knew I wouldn't accept."

"He was just joking around," said the Doctor sceptically.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

"Jealous? Me? As if I could succumb to such a petty, totally human emotion! That's ridiculous. Really Martha… jealous?"

"Whatever," she said. "I'm going to get changed."


	5. Chapter 5

Martha took a sip of her lukewarm, revoltingly weak tea in the tiny china cup and shuddered. The Doctor, who had wisely decided against purchasing anything at the infamous Marigold tearooms, smiled at her sympathetically.

"Rationing," he said.

"What about it."

"Your tea. Tea is being rationed, that's why it's so weak."

"Right," said Martha, putting down the cup, and picking up the iced bun the Doctor had brought for her. She looked at it. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes you are," he said. "You can't waste food in wartime, Martha

." "You have it, then," she said. He took it from her and split it in half.

"Share," he said. "Martha Jones needs her energy for house hunting."

"Ok," she said, taking a small bite. It tasted surprisingly good. "What's our next move?" she asked.

"Carry on," he replied. "We've only been round, what, half the town? There has to be a house we can rent or buy or just a room in someone's house we can rent, or something."

"As long as we don't sleep in someone's doorway," said Martha.

"That would be uncomfortable," the Doctor agreed. He swallowed his half of the bun in one, smearing the plain icing over his mouth. Martha rolled her eyes and, using the napkin, wiped his lips. He grinned sheepishly.

"That's better," she said.

"Ready to go?" She finished the last of her cake and nodded.

"Excuse me?" She spoke to an elderly waitress. "Could we have the bill, please." The women spoke over Martha's head at the Doctor.

"Are you done, sir?" Martha's lip curled. The woman was ignoring her.

"Yes, but Martha here was speaking to you, so would you have the courtesy to reply, please," he said good-naturedly, but with something a tiny bit threatening behind his tone. Martha could have kissed him.

"How much does the bill come to?" she repeated. The women didn't answer; she walked out behind the till and returned with a silver tray with a piece of paper set upon it.

"Here," she said. "The bill." The Doctor fished money out of his pocket and plonked a note onto it.

"There," he said. "I think that covers it."

"Thank you sir," said the women unblinkingly. "I hope you enjoyed your purchases." And she left. Martha sighed.

"Cow," she mumbled. The Doctor smiled.

"Maybe we should partake in some heavy snogging and shock them senseless," he said unblinkingly.

"Maybe we should go and find someplace to live first," she replied smartly. He grinned, but inside he felt a little disappointed. Not that he was desperate. He took her hand and, unlike when they had been walking down the road in search of a house, she did not pull away.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked.

"Forgiven for what?" asked Martha sternly. He mumbled something to the floor. She cupped her hand round her ear sarcastically. "Sorry?"

"For being rude to that man," he said.

"What man?

"Walker.'

"Good," she said. "And yes. Well if we're living together for a month without an alien time machine to distract us both I better get on with you," she replied. He chuckled.

"Don't you worry," he said. "We'll get a house, get some lunch, and get the TARDIS fixed."

"That sounds like a plan," she said as they made for the door. "Left or right?"

"Thataway," he said, steering her left. They walked down the street, talking animatedly.

"You or me?" asked Martha when they reached the first house they came to.

"I'll go first," he said, confidently.

"Polite face," she reminded him. He smiled slightly and walked over to the nearest house. He knocked on the door, looking back at Martha nervously. She crossed her fingers.

"Hello," said a woman's voice. The Doctor turned back and smiled charmingly.

"Hello," he said. "My name's the Doctor, I'm here with my friend Martha-" At this point the woman's eyes strayed over to where Martha was standing, and she looked slightly taken aback.

"Yes," she said faintly. She was about the same age as Martha's mother with blonde hair neatly scraped back and wearing a brown dress patterned with white flowers. She had a tea towel slung over the crook of her arm and looked flustered.

"We were wondering if you knew of any houses nearby that we could rent, or anyone looking for a lodger or lodgers. Or cheap houses for sale. Or anything. Please."

"I don't know," she said. "I'm sorry- wait, yes I do. Try four doors down to your left. The house is for rent; a woman called- now let me see… well a woman's living there and she's pretty desperate to rent out this house, so there shouldn't be any problems. Although… with that friend of yours… I just don't know."

"Thank you," he said swiftly. "We'll be off now. You've been very helpful."

"Alright then," she said warily. "Goodbye Doctor…"

"Bye!" he said, and turned back down the drive as the women shut the door behind him. Martha looked at him, trying to read his expression.

"Well?" she said.

"She said there was a place we could rent," he said. "Though how we'll pay for it I have no idea."

"We'll cross each bridge as it comes," said Martha. "Where's the house."

"Four doors down to the left."

"Four doors down to the left it is, then." The walked briskly along the pavement and stopped at the house. It was small and neat- in short a typical forty's house. The Doctor sighed.

"Shall I-"

"My turn now," said Martha.

"Good luck," he offered her. She nodded and tapped on the door. It was opened by a middle-aged woman.

"Hello," said Martha. "We were enquiring about renting the house for the next month."

"We?" asked the woman. Her voice was as smooth and tidy as the outside of the house.

"Me and my friend, the Doctor. He's over there…" Her voice faded into the wind.

"I'm sorry dear," she said, sounding strangely sympathetic. "I know you can't help it. You're just unfortunate to be born that way." And she shut the door in Martha's face. Martha stared at it for a whole ten seconds before she blinked back into reality. She glared at the house, calling the woman all manner of filthy names as she walked back down the path. The Doctor heard her and jumped back defensively. 

"What have I done?" Martha shook her head.

"Let's go," she said. The Doctor chewed his lip and nodded, lacing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. She leant against him and they walked down the street in silence.

"So I take it that wasn't a good visit?" attempted the Doctor. Martha shook her head again.

"No." She looked up at him. "What do we do now?"

"What do you mean? We keep looking."

"Do you really think anybody's going to let us rent a house," said Martha. "I mean, look at us."

"Listen," said the Doctor, stopping in the road and gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "If you suffered verbal abuse from that woman-"

"But that's just it," said Martha. "I can handle that, hell I had to handle that for three months-" The Doctor winced. "I'm just not bothered any more. But that woman… pitied me. Like I was something wrong." The Doctor took her hand again and they walked down the street. Martha was deep in thought when a voice shattered her contemplation.

"Hello Miss Jones!" Martha looked up and smiled.

"Hello… Jack," she said, smiling. "And please, it's Martha." Jack Jones, the corporal, smiled at the couple, his white moustache arranged in a cheerful upwards direction.

"Fair enough Martha," he said. "What are you two up to?"

"We're looking for somewhere to live," said Martha. "I don't think you and the Doctor really met yesterday."

"No we didn't, nice to meet you Jack." The Doctor paused. "I had a friend called Jack once… a very good friend…" His smile snapped back on. "So are you part of the home guard platoon?"

"I'm no less than the corporal, my son," said the old man. "Got more that fifty years of military experience strapped under me belt, started out as a drummer boy, you understand, a mere drummer boy, when I was fourteen. I was in the Sudan, I was, fighting the fuzzy wuzzys and now…"

"And now you're a butcher," said the Doctor beaming.

"How d'you that son, I was just getting onto all that, you ruined the story…"

"You're apron," said the Doctor. "The bloodstains on the front."

"Yes, I left some mutton in me front pocket so when I put it in the wash…"

"Nice," said Martha quickly. "Very nice."

"Well not really it left a very nasty stain-"

"Do me a favour," said Martha. "Please. Tell me there's a place round here up for rent or just a room up for rent or something because we have nothing."

"Rent… let me think…" Jack Jones screwed up his forehead in deep thought. "Now, there's that house just there, a very nice woman lives in there."

"We just tried that," said Martha, deciding not to comment on quite how nice the lady really was.

"Well, to be frank with you both, I wouldn't know about those things."

"Oh," the Doctor said, disappointed.

"Some of my customers would though," said the old man, brightening up. "I left my assistant, Raymond his name of, in charge of the shop, I just need to go to the bank for something. I'll… uh show the way if you like…" 

"I think we can manage," said Martha swiftly. "Thanks for helping us. You go to the bank."

"The what? Oh yes, the bank. I'll see you soon then, mustn't hold you up."

"Bye bye," said Martha faintly, as the elderly man walked away. She hooked her arm around the Doctor and they walked down the high street, ignoring the scandalised looks shot their way. Martha could only imagine the gossip tomorrow morning:

"Have you heard? There was a black woman holding hands with a white man yesterday. And now they're living together! Fancy that!"

"Butchers!" said the Doctor, pulling her left.

"Where?"

"Next to the undertakers."

"Jack Jones butchers," read Martha. "And James Frazer undertaker. Hmm. He's in the home guard too, the scary Scots man. He doesn't like me."

"Well we won't go in there, then," said the Doctor. He walked into the butchers and smiled at the row of customers- all women in the queue. "Hello ladies! Me and Martha were wondering if you could lend us a hand." Nobody answered. Martha threw back her hair defiantly; matching the curious glares coming her way. The Doctor paused. "No. Really?"

"If it's meat you're wanting sir, you'll have to get in the queue like everyone else," said the man behind the till. Raymond.

"Meat?" laughed the Doctor. "Nah. We're looking for something more than meat. We're looking for answers!" They were rewarded with blank stares. Martha shifted uncomfortably.

"Houses?" she asked. "Anything to rent? Nothing? No?"

"Yes that is what we're looking for… I could have just said that couldn't I… does anyone know anywhere where we could stay for a month… please?"

"You want somewhere to live?" asked a voice. Martha turned, a plump, small women in a cheap looking nineteen forties dress had spoken. Her hair was a mess; her face had no make-up and her eyes seemed to be glazed and in another place to everyone else.

"Yes," said Martha. "Do you know of somewhere?"

"Yes," said the women doubtfully. "Where I live… there's lots of room for the both of you… but everyone else I asked changed their mind when they saw the house."

"Sounds perfect," said the Doctor cheerfully. "We'd like to see it straight away."

"Let me buy my grocery's first," said the women.

"Meat," said Martha. The women looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

"Sorry dear," she said.

"Meat," she repeated. "You said groceries."

"Did I?" she asked, flustered. "I meant groceries… meat. I meant meat. Could you wait outside please?"

"Sure," said the Doctor. "We'll go." They walked outside and Martha laughed.

"Oh yes!" she cried, as the Doctor swept her into a hug. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."

"We found a house," said the Doctor, kissing the top of her head.

"Mr Smith we did indeed," she replied. "Although that women is really weird."

"I don't care," he said. "We have somewhere to live. Alone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. He flushed, but he was spared from answering when the women came out the shop.

"The women in the shop say I shouldn't let you stay at my house," she said. "Because you're the wrong colour and you're not married."

"Please," said the Doctor. "We have nothing."

"Oh I'm ignoring them," she said. "I really, really, really need the money."

"Yeah about that…" began the Doctor. Martha stopped him.

"We'll discuss that later," she said. She offered her hand for the older women to shake. "Martha Jones."

"Elsie May. Call me Mrs May. I won't be at home much, I have a job in the war office, I come home every few days… I work in London although…" she smiled sheepishly. "Careless talk."

"Very conscientious," grinned the Doctor. "Where in town's this house of your then, Mrs M. Oh that's rhymes!" And Martha smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh my God," said Martha. Mrs May shifted slightly.

"No blasphemy under my roof please, Miss Jones. I happen to be a very religious women."

"Sorry…" she said. "I was just…" But she couldn't finish. They were stood in front of the house… the house? It was three floors high and standing alone and awkward in the midst of the small, modest little houses lining the rest of the street. The outside was crude, grey brick with jagged windows sliced into the stone. There were a few tiles missing from the roof and the garden was a tangled mess of overgrown weeds and only God knows what else. She could understand why everyone else had turned away at the last minute. Mrs May looked across at them nervously.

"It may not look like much, but it's reasonable rent and you'll have a whole floor to yourself as long as you keep it clean-" Martha snorted, but turned it into a cough when the Doctor nudged her. That was a new one. Him telling her to be polite? Martha smiled inwardly.

"That would be nice," she said. "So shall we go in…"

"Err… yes…" she said. "Do you have any… luggage."

"Nope," the Doctor. "Just the clothes on our back and each other."

"That wasn't cheesy," Martha muttered so only he could hear.

"In that case," said Mrs M. "We better go in. You have to be a wee bit careful of the nettles around about there… that's right. Just sort of weave your away around the plants… careful there Doctor, I think my cat did something… not there, there… oh well never mind. Look, there's a bit of a step there, you can't see it because of the grass, that's right, lower your foot down, you're ok… careful I think there's a pond over that way somewhere… don't trip Martha… look here we are, that wasn't so difficult was it?" They reached the porch of the house, a crumbling wooden affair with peeling paint and a few birds nest in the corner. Martha grimaced at the Doctor as she slotted the key in the grimy lock and twisted it with all her might. She looked back apologetically.

"Sorry about this…"

"I'll take your bags for you," said Martha.

"It's ok," said Mrs M, snatching them away. "I'm more than capable… I think…" Finally the door popped open causing the old women to stumble a little. "Here we are." Martha shivered as she looked around the house. The wallpaper was peeling even more than the paint and she could smell damp. The windows were boarded up in places and the house was awash with numerous spiders' webs. The stairs twisted round and up into the unknown. Mrs M touched her hair self-consciously. "I'll show you to your room," she said. "You'll have your own bedroom, your own little bathroom and your own wee kitchen. I'm not sure about the reliability of the oven but the hob works fine…"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Martha said. Mrs M led the way up the stairs until they came to the next floor. They stopped.

"I thought you said we were at the top," said the Doctor.

"I did… I just wanted to ask you if you could keep clear of this floor," said Mrs M. "It has some quite vital work in it… my office and such and I don't want anything broken… not that I think you would…"

"We understand," said Martha. They were led up another flight of stairs, where the percentage of wall covered with patterned paper grew steadily less and the smell of damp even more steadily increased.

"Here we are," said Mrs M as the three stood in a dingy corridor. "I… uh… I'll ask for pay at the end of each month, if that's ok. I mean… of course it's ok. I'm the landlady. So… rooms. Bedroom's to your left, kitchen to your right and bathroom directly opposite you."

"Got it," said Martha. The landlady pushed something small into the Doctor's hands. 

"Keys," she said. "I think that's everything. I'll leave you to get on with it."

"Thank you," said Martha. "Really, really, thank you." The old women smiled warmly.

"You're welcome," she said proudly. "I'm glad somebody appreciates my humble… home. Now I'll be off." She left, smiling. Martha's smile dropped the minute the women left the floor and she let out a groan.

"Oh my God," she moaned. "We are going to die."

"We'll be all right," said the Doctor. She leant against him weakly.

"No we won't," she said. "We'll get pneumonia or hyperthermia or limes disease or we'll be bitten by a deadly bug in the night and we'll die of it's poison the next day or…"

"There aren't all that many deadly poisonous bugs in 1940's Britain," cut in the Doctor.

"I bet there are fleas though," said Martha. "There were in 1913. Fleas, fleas, fleas. Lots of fleas. They made their nests in the blankets in the beds and I made sure I had a bath every day even though you were only allowed one a month and I went to the TARDIS and got all that shampoo. But there were still fleas. It was disgusting."

"We'll scout the area for fleas," said the Doctor apologetically. "That's a promise." There was a pause before Martha said:

"D'you think Mrs M will be offended if we replace the wallpaper?"

"Martha I don't think she'll even notice," said the Doctor, and suddenly they were laughing. The Doctor's chuckles were punctured with noises of disgust when he noticed his shoe. "Yuck. I think I trod on the…"

"You have cat crap on your shoe," yelped Martha. "Doctor you smudged it into the carpet."

"Let's replace it," he said. "We'll replace everything. There will be stuff in the TARDIS… we'll be able to get stuff out even though she's… well."

"Yeah, what's up with her?" asked Martha. "Will she really be ok?"

"Come on," said the Doctor. "Let's go to our room." They walked along to the right and into the room. Martha gasped in shock. The bed was sagged and the sheets were thin and yellow in age. There was one other piece of furniture- a broken bedside cabinet- and a smashed mirror was hung on the wall between two portraits of the Virgin Mary.

"This is disgusting," said Martha. "How can anyone live like this?" The Doctor shrugged and began to rummage around in his pockets, quickly extracting his sonic screwdriver. Martha watched in silence as he pointed it at the sheets, which fizzed slightly and began to moisten. Martha watched, as the sheets appeared to wash themselves until they were pearly white.

"There," he said.

"You never told me it could do that," said Martha.

"Only found out yesterday," said the Doctor. "Come on." They sat on the edge of the bed.

"You were going to tell me what happened to the TARDIS," Martha said. The Doctor sighed.

"It's complicated," he said. "She's alive… she's not functioning. It's like she's in catatonic shock."

"Catatonic shock?" Martha repeated. "Why? What happened?"

"You were asleep," said the Doctor. "You'd fallen asleep fully dressed so I tidied up your room a bit and left you. Then the TARDIS picked up on something and suddenly she was hurtling through the air, dropping like a stone and we crash landed."

"And I got concussed… but why did she do that?"

"She's only done that once before," said the Doctor. "Totally ignored everything and just landed somewhere and that was when somebody went back in time to change history."

"But then you'd need another Time machine," said Martha. "Who was it?"

"Me," admitted the Doctor. Martha raised her eyebrows. "I was younger then! I was irresponsible. Immature. Only about two hundred. I never do that anymore… you know I don't…."

"So has someone come back with the intention to alter history again?" asked Martha. "And was it you?"

"The TARDIS would have come a certain amount of time before it happens," said the Doctor. "But she homed in to the place where it would have happened… or as close as possible anyway."

"Warbington on sea?" Martha asked.

"No. The church hall."

"So somebody's going to change something that happened in the church hall?" asked Martha. "Or make something happen."

"No," said the Doctor. "Or… maybe. But really that's where their vessel or method of travel will appear. So the TARDIS automatically homed in on there and because of the surge of energy used, she collapsed."

"Will she be all right?" asked Martha.

"With our help, yes. I put her so far away from everything so we could… practise our treatments, so to speak," he said. "We don't want anyone watching while we do that."

"Right," said Martha. "I think I get it now."

"Good," said the Doctor. Martha sighed.

"Doctor," she said. "How are we going to get any money?" He sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "We're going have to get a job."


	7. Chapter 7

**Firstly of all, sorry this has been so long to update, I've reached a bit of a mental block. But don't worry, I will overcome it! And here's the prove, a new chapter- not sure about the quality of it but take it while it's hot.**

"A job?" said Martha. "What… both of us? You?"

"What d'you mean, me?" he asked. "Course me. I can do jobs. I have in the past. And the future."

"But we're talking England, 1941," said Martha. "England, 1941 where if we get fired we have no food, no clothes, nowhere to live… nothing. A solid month of working in the same place in a probably very boring, very same-ish job."

"You have to too," he said defensively. "You couldn't do it."

"I have," she said quietly. "Remember." He looked at the floor, ashamed.

"I do," he said. They sat in silence, remembering. Martha cleared her throat.

"I mean there are worse things…"

"Yeah," he agreed hastily.

"I'm not saying it was complete torture… I mean I had Jenny and I had a laugh with her sometimes and…"

"Yeah," he said again. "I mean a servant…"

"But it's just different to being a doctor," she said. "Isn't it." The Doctor didn't look up.

"I'm sorry Martha," he said. "Truly."

"I know you are," she said softly. He looked up and into her deep brown eyes. She smiled gently. "And thank you for being sorry." He swallowed, as their eyes locked and he licked his lips. Martha flushed and she twisted her head away. "What we gonna do then?" she asked.

"Uh… what?"

"About the jobs? I hate to doubt myself but I don't think anybody's about to hire… me. And I believe in you Doctor, I swear I do. But I don't know how we're going to manage, seriously, if we have to hold this out for a month…"

"It's ok," he said. "Honestly. We'll pull through, I swear. I'll tell you what we're going to do."

"What's that then?" she asked. He sat closer to her on the bed.

"We're going to go out," he said. "I think I have some money on me… somewhere… anyway we'll go look for a job. We'll look in shop windows, papers we'll ask people so-"

"So basically the same process we just went through looking for this place," said Martha, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Right."

"Right," said the Doctor. "Then I'll use some of the money I probably have in my pockets somewhere and we'll but some new sheets and some furniture and some new clothes and food." Martha was silent for a few seconds.

"Look, I'm no historian but I remember studying the Second World War when I was at school and they had those things didn't they, those… ration books or something and you needed them to buy stuff with. How are we gonna get them?"

"Physic paper," said the Doctor. "Although it might be worth getting some from somewhere… plus you need an identity card… God this is more complicated then I thought."

"We'll think about that when it comes then," said Martha. "So jobs?"

"Jobs it is," he agreed. Martha got up.

"Doctor, wouldn't it make sense to split up… say you do papers and shop windows and I do asking people. Then we meet up again at-" Martha checked her watch. "Half one and we'll figure out a battle plan over lunch." The Doctor shifted his position and Martha fixed him with a glare.

"Fine," he said. "Just don't go running into any homicidal aliens trying to change time."

"I'll try my best," she said. She sighed and looked down at the dress she was wearing. "I really hate this thing."

"Just a month," he reminded her. She nodded.

"After this you are going to owe my a nice relaxing holiday somewhere as far away from earth as possible."

"And don't I know it," he said. "Come on." He took her hand and they walked out the house. They paused at the garden.

"Right," said Martha. "How do we…" The Doctor began to edge forward slowly, feeling the ground with his foot. Martha shuffled after him. "This is gross," she muttered. "Gross gross gross."

"Just grin and bear it," he said. Then he fell forward and Martha caught him and pulled him back. The impact of this caused her to topple over and land heavily on the ground. She groaned.

"I hate you," she moaned. He helped her up and gave her an apologetic hug.

"I found the pond," he said. "I think we should mark it somehow so we don't fall in it." As he did so (with a tall stick) Martha brushed down her dress. They carried on until they made it to the rusted gate.

"We made it," she breathed. "Now, shall we meet…"

"At the butchers we both know where that is," he said. "Then we'll get some lunch, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'll go this way."

"And I'll go this way." The Doctor smiled sheepishly and pulled her into another hug. She smiled, enjoying the attention.

"What was that for?" she asked as she felt him resting his chin on her head.

"Nothing," he said. "See you later."

"Laters," she replied and they walked in opposite directions.

II

About half an hour had passed and Martha's search had been completely fruitless. She trailed down street after street, as she was treated with suspicious glances and one woman even purposely barged past Martha, hitting her with her bags. Martha winced and pulled her arm away. She kept to the sides of the streets, looking for somebody, anybody to ask about the jobs.

It had begun to rain, reminding Martha she was still in England, and her hair was plastered to her forehead. Her clothes clung to her and she shivered. Then something big hit her full on and she stumbled.

"Sorry," she gasped. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Martha!" Martha looked up.

"Joe," she said thankfully, pulling the man into a hug.

"You all right?" he asked, holding on for a little more than Martha would have liked. She nodded. She shook her head.

"I don't know," she said. "What time is it?"

"One," said Joe after a quick look at his watch. "Why?"

"How close I am to the butchers?" asked Martha.

"About three quarters of an hours walk."

"Oh no," said Martha. "I was supposed to meet the Doctor there at one thirty."

"S'alright, I can give you a lift," he said.

"Really?" asked Martha.

"Sure, me cars just around the corner."

"I'm not mucking up your day or anything?"

"What? Nah, honest, I was just on me way to meet this bloke about some… stuff and the butcher's on the way anyways. No problem at all."

"Oh," said Martha. "Thanks Joe."

"Don't think about it," he said. "Come on this way." And he led her to his car.

II

The Doctor was sat in the waiting room for Swallow bank. Apparently there were three jobs going and the Doctor wanted to apply himself and Martha for two of them. He had been informed of this by Mrs May who had been wandering round town in a somewhat dazed fashion as if she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing. Somehow the Doctor didn't think this was rare.

A boy walked through smartly. "Mr Mainwaring will see you now," he said. Then he stopped. He gaped. "It's you," he said. The Doctor jumped up.

"Me?" he asked. The boy was about eighteen and was wearing a smart suit and tie that didn't quite suit him. His hair was neatly parted.

"That man from the blue box with Miss Jones… you were at the parade the other night!" The Doctor looked more closely at him.

"Frank Pike was it?" he said. Frank nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, that's right. You want a job here?"

"Martha, and me yes," he said. "Wait a second… did you say Mr Mainwaring."

"Well yes… he's the bank manager. And Uncle Arthur… Sergeant Wilson's the chief clerk."

"Right," said the Doctor. "So shall we…"

"Yes, yes," said Frank. He led the Doctor through the door. "Mr Mainwaring, this man's come to see you about a job."

"Nice office you've got here," said the Doctor. "I especially like the Lewis gun on the windowsill. What's that for?"

"Shooting people you damned fool," came the clipped reply. "Sit down then." The Doctor did so. Mr Mainwaring sighed and leaned back. "Can I see your references, please?"

"Yep," said the Doctor whipping out his physic paper. Mr Mainwaring scrutinized it.

"My my," he muttered. "Quite extensive for someone applying to be a cleaner."

"I clean very well," he said.

"I hope so. And the girl's?"

"The girl?" asked the Doctor innocently.

"The coloured girl's references, you fool!"

"If you're referring to Martha please use her name."

"I'm in charge, not you," he said. "This Jones girl's references let me see them." The Doctor hid the physic paper behind his back and brought it out from the other side.

"Here." Mr Mainwaring read hers as well.

"And she'll be applying to be tea girl?"

"Seeing as that's the only available job, yes," sighed the Doctor. Mainwaring nodded.

"Right. Now Mr…"

"Doctor," he said. "Just the Doctor."

"Well… Doctor there are certain things we require from staff at this bank."

"There always is," said the Doctor. "Enlighten me."

"I make every member of staff join my Home guard platoon… or else I refuse to hire them," he said.

"So that means me," said the Doctor. "In an army."

"Yes," said Mainwaring. "Unfortunately, we don't get to do any fighting, more undercover, behind the scenes work… vital of course."

"Of course."

"And I'd need Martha to assist Private Godfrey in making tea. He's getting on a bit, that's his role, so to speak, in our platoon. He makes tea and does first aid."

"I think Martha knows quite a bit of advanced first aid," said the Doctor.

"I very much doubt it. We can hardly expect a women to know these things, especially one of her colour."

"Neither the gender nor colour of a person determines their intelligence," said the Doctor. 

"But it does," said Mainwaring. "So do you agree? You'll both join?"

"Yep," he said. "I guess we have to."

"Brilliant." Mainwaring leant across to shake the Doctor's pale hand. "See you on Monday at nine sharp. And the parades are on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. You will often have to sacrifice your weekends for exercises. Do you think you're up to it?"

"Easy," he said. "More than up for it. When can we start?"

"Well there's a parade tonight, Godfrey will sort you out in the means of uniform and as for the job you and that Jones girl can start on Monday."

"Please either call her Martha or Miss Jones, and thank you very much," said the Doctor. "What day is it again?" 

"Friday, man," barked the bank manager.

"Friday, of course. Thanks again Mr Mainwaring."

"See you tonight then. Six o'clock sharp."

"Gotcha. Does Martha need to come."

"She does indeed."

"Right. Until tonight."

"Goodbye." The Doctor left the office and then the bank. He checked his watch. It was twenty to two. He was late for Martha. He began to jog.

II

"So there wasn't much point in rushing was there," said Martha. "He's late." She was sat in Joe's car outside the butchers, and had been there for the last fifteen minutes. And still no Doctor.

"Maybe he's got a job interview," said Joe.

"Mmm," said Martha. She sighed. "We still have to go shopping."

"Come to me," he said. "I can get you anything, anything at all. Stockings, elastic, carpets-"

"Carpets? You can get us carpets?"

"Sure, anything you like."

"Wallpaper? Sheets? Clothes?"

"Anything you like."

"Well, well Mr Walker, somebody's a teensy bit of a criminal."

"Women love a dangerous man," yawned Joe.

"Dream on," she chuckled. Then she thought of something. "Joe… if you are a criminal-"

"Listen darling, don't get the wrong idea," said Joe. "Sure I might bend the law a tad but in the scheme of things I don't do nothing to hurt nobody, I don't nick from poor people or nothing and I buy some of me own goods to sell…"

"I trust you," she assured him. "But would you happen to know… a forger."

"Well I can't really tell you that Martha, with all due respect, you know."

"What if I wanted to hire him." Joe looked around. His tone was hushed.

"What d'you want?"

"Identity cards and ration books," she muttered.

"Right," he said. "How many?"

"Two of each. When can your forger get them done by?"

"Tonight. What names should he put?"

"Martha Jones," she said. "And John Smith."

"Fabulous. And where shall I deliver them to? Where are you staying?"

"Mrs May's place."

"Oh," winced Joe. "You need carpets?"

"Carpets, sheets, a wardrobe, clothes, wallpaper, a mop a broom…"

"Wait, wait," said Joe. He was writing everything down in a small black book. "This is gonna be tricky."

"Sorry Joe," she said. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't worry I think I know where I can lay me hands on some. They'll come with your ration books. In the meantime-" He opened his briefcase and pressed a few objects into her hand. "Spam. Tinned peaches. Milk. Butter. Bread."

"Joe! I can't except this!"

"Come on, it's on the house. Anyways, there's just enough for one night. Until you get your ration books."

"How much would it cost?"

"Nothing for you."

"That's not fair. If you won't take money let me do you a favour."

"Fine," he said immediately. "Let me take you to the pictures tomorrow night."

"Fine," she said. "And thank you." She leant in and kissed him on the cheek. "I think you may have just saved our lives."

"Don't think on it," he told her. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Martha! Not been waiting too long I hope!" Martha turned to see the Doctor jogging towards them. Martha opened the door and he came and sat in the back seat on the car.

"Look," she said showing him the food. "Joe gave them to us for nothing. And we've got some identity cards and ration books being forged for us and he'll deliver them for you."

"Right," said the Doctor unenthusiastically. "Well done… you didn't get a job did you?"

"No."

"Good. I got one for both of us."

"Doctor, that's great!" cried Martha, leaning over the seats to hug him. "What?"

"It's not the best," he admitted. "Not like what you had… before. It's at the bank."

"Swallow bank?" asked Joe curiously.

"Yeah," said the Doctor.

"Mr Mainwaring's bank."

"Mr Mainwaring," said Martha. "The captain?"

"Sorry," said the Doctor. "And there's a catch."

IIIIIII


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm back! Spain was great, got myself a lovely tan to show off and had I lovely time. And it's been so long since I updated this one… so here it is. And 'four hearts between us' should have another chapter soon as well. Hope you enjoy **

It was in silence that the Doctor and Martha shared their toast, spam and weak cups of tea in the recently cleaned kitchen. Martha had spent the last two hours scrubbing down the greasy tiles on the walls of the kitchen, as the Doctor watched her and talked to her about rubbish. In the end she had snapped. It was enough to drive her insane- he wasn't about to start helping and his rambling words didn't encourage her. So the Doctor had sloped off, leaving her buried inside the oven, attempting to keep the tears at bay. After that she washed the floors and cleaned out the cupboards, unearthing forgotten teabags (still ok) and some green milk (which was not). Then she's stabbed the tin of spam with a knife (she had no tin-opener) and begun to 'cook'.

"It's ok, this really," said the Doctor slowly chewing. "You did a good job." She nodded.

"Thank Joe, not me," she said. He shrugged. "No seriously, do. He literally saved our lives."

"You hate it here, don't you," said the Doctor. She smiled dully.

"Not your fault," she said. He smiled.

"Well done, by the way," he said. "The kitchen. You did incredibly."

"It wasn't that hard," she said. "Not compared to a… to a school." He fell silent.

"I've got something to show you," he said, brightening up. "Are you done?"

"Yeah," she said. "Come on then." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out the kitchen and towards their bedroom. She made to go inside but he stopped her.

"Wait," he said. He put his hands over her eyes and she laughed.

"What are you doing?"

"Just walk forward," he said, his voice tinted with excitement. "Slowly, don't bang your arm on the doorframe." She tentatively stepped forward and into their bedroom. He led her to what she thought was the middle of the room.

"Can I look now?" she laughed, all her bad moods of earlier gone. He spun her round.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice gently teasing.

"Yes."

"One," he said. "Two. Three." And his hands dropped to his sides. Martha looked around. She blinked. She gasped.

"Oh my God you did this, how did you do this…"

The walls were no longer sporting their tattered wallpaper, but were now painted a gentle cream colour. Instead of the grey curtains were scarlet drapes, pulled open. The moulded carpet was stripped away leaving bare floors, ready for the carpets Joe was going to provide. There was a rug though, lying down by the bed. And the bed. It was completely repaired, the wood strong and varnished. Although it was bare of sheets, the mattress was patched and clean. She felt tears well up in her eyes.

"You did this," she managed. "For us." He pulled her into a hug and rocked her gently.

"It was all I could do," he murmured, kissing her ear. "It's nothing to what you did for me in the last few months."

"But _how?_" How is this possible?" He rested his hands on her shoulders and they parted from the hug.

"I found some paint in the garage," he said. "I also found the material for the curtains, and the rug. And I fixed the bed and the mattress. I cleaned it downstairs and I found Mrs May's old sewing machine."

"You are amazing," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

"There's more," he said. "Come to the window." His hands still resting on her shoulders, she walked over to the window. She looked out, then down. 

"Oh my God…" He smiled and his lips hovered over her neck. She froze, as the skin around the spot tingled as he pulled her into a backwards hug. She was stunned, blinking rapidly.

"I used the sonic," he said. "Cut the grass and cleaned up the litter everywhere. Look at the path. You can see it now. And the pond. It's quite nice when you can see it." She grabbed his hands.

"All I did was clean the kitchen," she said. "I don't believe this… I thought you were being lazy."

"Not this time," he said. He rested his hands on her hips and she looked up at him. Her eyes traced the gentle lines of his lips and she unconsciously licked hers. She wanted to feel his lips crush against hers, his tongue to embrace hers; his hands rub against her back. She wanted to feel his fingers rake through her hair, feel the weight of his body against hers, to feel him pressed close up against her in passion. She gulped. He smiled, his hands coming up to touch her face, his fingers gently running along her cheekbones. She let out a breath, her heart fluttering, and she very deliberately bit down on her lip.

Then the doorbell rang. The Doctor jumped away from Martha and she blushed flaming red, turning away to look out the window. Someone was walking up the path, looking around in shock. It was Joe.

"Joe!" she called, waving out the window. He looked up and waved back.

"Thought I'd give you both a lift to parade tonight," he called up. He was dressed in his green uniform again, his hat tilted. She smiled, trying not to look disappointed.

"Thanks," she said. "We'll be right down." She turned and walked straight past the Doctor, trying to stop her mind from laying on what had just had just happened between them. Had she imagined it? Had he really nearly kissed her? She ran down the stairs, past the forbidden floor and down to down to the front door, which she opened. Joe gave her a casual salute and she grinned.

"Hello Martha," he said. "Me cars out the front… nice by the way." He gestured round at the pristine garden. "How d'you do that then?"

"The Doctor," she said. "Thanks for the food, Joe."

"If you let me drop you back off then we can go via me shed and pick up your stuff for the house."

"You're a star," she said. "Thanks so, so much." He waved her praise away.

"Where's the Doctor, then?" Martha looked behind her.

"Doctor!" she yelled. "We're leaving!" She heard footsteps clatter down the stairs and the Doctor bounded up behind her.

"Mr Walker," he beamed, shaking the cockney's hand. "Brilliant."

"Hello," he said, a little taken aback. "Shall we?"

"Come on then," said Martha, taking the Doctor's hand. "Joe's giving us a lift."

"Really? Splendid!" said the Doctor, still grinning. They walked down the path easily now, giving Martha a chance to take in a view of cleanliness that her mother would be proud of, and hopped in Joe's motorcar. The engine roared throatily and clattered in motion. Martha gripped the sides of the seats to stop herself from flying through the windscreen and gritted her teeth as the wind whistled through her hair.

"Drives well don't it," said Joe. "Really smooth." Martha smiled weakly- this was not who she interpreted the ride. The Doctor, sat in the back, poked his head through the two seats. He stuck his tongue out childishly.

"Are we there yet?" he asked. Martha slapped his lightly.

"Shut it, you." Then she winced, her mind going back to the 'almost' moment back in the house. She wondered what would have happened if Joe hadn't rung the doorbell at that very second. Would the Doctor have granted her wishes? Or would he have just shrugged her off, oblivious to her inner thoughts. Again. She snatched her hand away to her chest.

"Here we are," said Joe eventually. He hopped out the car in an attempt to open the door for her but the Doctor got there first, and helped her out of the car. She didn't know what to think, she strode away from both of the men and into the church hall.

III

The hall was packed with about thirty five men all dressed in their regulation green uniform holding slim guns in a fashion that made Martha doubt how well they knew how to use them. They were all milling around casually and there was no sign of the Captain or the Sergeant so she presumed that the parade was yet to start. Joe walked past her and went to join a bundle of men sat on the wooden steps leading upto the stage at the end of the Church hall. The Doctor came up behind her.

"Come on then," he grinned. She took a few steps out of the doorway and all the way into the hall. She saw a gaggle of women all dressed in dresses with their hair scraped back neatly. Each one of them were white and middle aged and shamelessly staring at her from across the hall. She wondered whether she would be expected to join them. She hoped not; they were looking at her as if she had leprosy. Instead, she followed the Doctor to the huddle of men by the stage. In there she recognised Jack Jones the butcher, Frazer the intimating Scotsman, Godfrey the mild mannered English gentlemen and Pike the young, naïve lad. All but Frazer smiled at her warmly.

"Hello," said the Doctor brightly. "How are we all today?" Frazer looked Martha up and down and she did her best to match his cool glare. But it was hard; his beady green eyes seemed to penetrate her defences.

"All of a sudden there's an awful queer smell about the place," he said. "I think we should go."

"Don't be stupid Taffy," said Joe, lighting up a cigarette. "Here, cup hold of one of these, this'll put the smile back on your face." Frazer accepted the cigarette and took it between his thin lips.

"I don't like this, Joe," he said. "All these new people arriving… you can't trust any of 'em."

"Shut up you suspicious bastard," sighed Joe, taking a puff of his fag. "Anyone else want a smoke?"

"In my old age it seems to make me cough," said Godfrey.

"I'll 'ave one please Joe," said Jack Jones, sliding one from the cardboard package.

"You really shouldn't have them," said Martha quickly. Everyone turned to look at her.

"Why not?" asked Pike warily. "My Mum won't let me smoke, she says it's makes you smell." Martha nodded. She remembered from her medical training that the effects of smoking weren't discovered until the mid fifties. She looked round at all the smoking men. She hoped it wouldn't kill them.

"A bad smell is the best part," she said nervously. "It can cause loads of problems, numerous cancers, damaged circulation, shortness of breath and it can shorten your life dramatically. And it's addictive which is never great."

"How do you know?" asked Pike. "Are you a scientist?"

"Oh… no I guess…. I guess I read it somewhere…" she mumbled.

"It's completely true," said the Doctor. "The nicotine in it makes it difficult to stop." Joe took a wary puff.

"You can't believe everything you read love," he said. The door slammed open and everyone jumped as Mr Mainwaring marched in. He looked faintly ridiculous, a short, plump figure in too tight uniform."

"Doctor! In my office please! At the double."

"At the double?" The Doctor grimaced and pecked Martha on the cheek for no reason before strolling into the office. Mainwaring watched him incredulously.

"I said at the double!" he barked and the Doctor quickened his pace. Martha touched her cheek where the Doctor had put his lips. What had that meant? She shuddered; butterflies fluttering inside her stomach. 

"So I'll bring everything round first thing tomorrow morning, there's been a bit of a delay is that ok… Martha?" Martha jumped.

"Yes, sorry, brilliant. Sorry I was somewhere else for a second. Thanks Joe."

"Ok," he said, looking at her oddly. "You still up for the cinema tomorrow night? If I pick you up around seven? We could get some fish and chips after wards?"

"That sounds great," she said. "How much do I owe you for all the carpets and that."

"I'll settle it with you tomorrow," he said. "And there's no pressure to pay straight away, of course. Just, whenever you can."

"Thanks," she said. "So much. You are nothing short of a lifesaver, Mr Walker."

"Don't think on it," he said. He looked up, a gentle smile on his lips. "Hello," he muttered. "Your Doctor's back." Martha looked up and burst out laughing. The Doctor walked over to her, looking baffled.

"What?" he asked. Martha doubled over, speechless.

"You," she managed. "Look. Ridiculous." The Doctor smoothed down the rough material of his new green uniform defensively. It was made for a much shorter, fatter man. The sleeves ended half way up his forearm and it hung loosely from his skinny physique like elephant skin. The hat was too big and kept slipping off his head.

"This was the only spare one," he said. She chortled and pulled him into a hug. He looked surprised, but accepted it, kissing the top of her head.

"Just a month," he reminded her quietly. She nodded.

"A tiny little month," she replied. He kissed her again, this time on the tip of her nose.

"So Doctor." It was Joe. Martha withdrew from the hug as the Doctor smiled politely at Joe.

"Yes."

"I suppose Martha's told you about our little date tomorrow night? I hope you won't get lonely in that house on your own?" The Doctor jumped back from Martha and looked at her.

"Oh," he said flatly. "Oh. Ok." And he stormed out the building.


	9. Chapter 9

**I originally planned to finish a married man before continuing with this but today I just sat down and wrote this in less than an hour so I thought I may as well put it up. **

"Well I don't know what you hope to gain from standing there sulking. Yes, I'm going out, yes I'm going with Joe and yes I am going to be leaving you on your own. So you can either be a sensible, mature adult and accept this opportunity to relax or you can act like a two year old and sulk until I get back. If I were you I'd chose option A and be done with it." It was the following night, and Martha was ready for Joe to pick her up from the house. Since the Doctor had stormed out of the parade, he had spent the rest of the night sulking as the Sergeant led a 'rifle cleaning session' and Martha, Mr Godfrey and the other ladies had made tea and sewed buttons back on uniforms. They then returned home and Martha had gone to bed. Alone. She didn't know where the Doctor slept that night. He wasn't talking to her. Or Joe. She wondered what the matter was. No she didn't. She knew what the matter was. At least she thought…

"I don't see what the problem is," she said. "I have managed to make a friend here, a friend who, unlike the rest of the world, doesn't care about my race or my gender. I would like to keep this friend and that's why we're doing something together. Joe dropped round all that stuff this morning and you were so rude to him he was trying to be helpful. No, scratch that, he was being helpful. And you practically kicked him out the door. My friend. Your friend." The Doctor didn't say anything. She reached out and touched his arm. He flinched away. She heard a hoot of a car horn outside.

"See, that'll be him now. So I'm going. I'll be back later, and when I am you can stop being so childish and ask me how it went? Or something?" She folded her arms across her chest. "You know what Doctor, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were… oh I don't know- jealous?" She spat the last word with contempt. There was no reaction. She sighed. "I'll see you later, then." She ran down the stairs and out the door. The Doctor stayed frozen in his position, staring out the window. He watched as she reached the battered old car and leaned in to hug Joe. He could hear them talking though he couldn't make out the words.

"Why are you doing this to me Martha Jones," he moaned as the car drove away.

III

"Joe!" beamed Martha, running along the path and embracing the young cockney warmly. He kissed her cheek gently and opened the door of the car for her.

"Hello gorgeous. How are we today?"

"Great," she said, wiggling back in the worn leather of the seats. "Where are we going then?"

"Odeon," he replied, twisting the ignition key. "It's about five miles away. Shouldn't take too long."

"Cool," she said.

"Cool? What's that mean, then?"

"Oh… uh it means…good," fumbled Martha. "Good. Where I come from. It means good."

"Good, cool," Joe mused as the car pulled away. "You are full of surprises." Martha shifted, uncomfortable. As much as she liked Joe Walker, she couldn't help her mind wandering back to the Doctor. The Doctor. Her Doctor. Or not… now. She swallowed, and felt a lump rise in her throat. He'd never been like that before, never point blank ignored her, never deliberately tried to make her feel small. She didn't know what to think.

Joe was whistling cheerfully as they drove along the lanes. Martha stared at her lap as she felt the wind stinging against her face.

"You look very nice," said Joe. Martha smiled at him.

"Thank you." They drove on.

IIII

"And here we are," said Joe grandly. "Miss Jones."

"Thank you Mr Walker," she giggled as he helped her out the car. He hooked his arm round hers and began to lead her towards the big building a little way ahead. She leaned closer against him- the Doctor apparently couldn't care less about where she was going so she might as well make a good time out of it. Screw him. She liked Joe. Joe liked her. It was none of the Doctor's business how much they liked each other.

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Thanks Joe. Really."

"What for?"

"You know what for," she said. "Just everything. It means a lot to me." Me, not us, she thought. The Doctor couldn't care less… oh Lord.

"You know I love to help a pretty girl like you," he replied. His hand strayed to the small of her back. She hesitated, then mentally shrugged her shoulders. The Doctor obviously didn't give a toss how she felt. How she acted. What she did. She forced the time travelling alien out of her mind and leaned into Joe. He grinned. "Never been to the cinema with a gal like you before," he said gruffly. Martha looked up at him, unsure of herself.

"No?"

"No," he said. "I usual go for the blonde gals. Yeh know. Pretty common all of em. Not you though. Never seen nobody who looks like you before who speaks like you before." Martha flushed and Joe squeezed her into him. "It's a compliment love."

"Then thank you," she mumbled. He brushed a stray hair from her cheek and their eyes met.

"What's the matter, hey?" asked Joe gently. "Anything I can do?"

"No," said Martha. "But thanks for asking." They entered the cinema and Martha stared around in wonder.

"But it looks like…a theatre," she said. He laughed softly, and rested an arm on her shoulder.

"That's what it is Martha, love," he said. "A movie theatre. What do you want to go and see?"

"I don't mind," she said. "I don't know what's on."

"All right love. You chose the next film."

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, Joe," Martha grinned. "Planning a second date."

"Said the girl who called our friendly little film a date," grinned Joe. Martha opened her mouth in protest- then let her jaw full slack.

"Alright you got me there," she admitted. "So we seeing this film then or not?"

Martha sat in the cinema, half watching the flickering black and white images on the big screen. She was fully aware that she was the only black person in the whole cinema, but it didn't bother her at all. Her mind was elsewhere- on the Doctor. She sighed, remembering how tense his shoulders were when he said goodbye, how cold and dismissive his eyes were. She looked up at the man sat beside her, seeing his relaxed arm resting across her shoulders, his warm eyes tinted with humour. Oh sod it.

She leant into his embrace. She felt him start, then relax, as his bought his arms around her gently. "What about this Doctor of yours then?" he whispered. A tidal wave of guilt washed up inside her.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "Let's just watch the... watch the film." Her voice broke.

"Hey, hey," he said. "Don't cry." Martha's lip trembled, and she felt a tear escape from her eyelid. He stopped it with her thumb.

"I'm sorry Joe," she said. "I know how to spoil a bit of fun."

"Don't worry about it, love," he said. "Come on you. Let's get out of here."

"Nah don't worry about it," he said, standing up. They walked out of the cinema and into the night. They sat together on a bench, Joe lit a fag. "Want one? Oh no, don't tell me. You don't like 'em do you?"

"That's right," she said.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked softly. "I wouldn't mind." Martha thought of the Doctor, alone in the house, waiting for her to return. But no, he wouldn't be waiting. He'd be in the TARDIS, furious at her for treating him so bad... and after all he'd done to the house, to the garden. He'd be cursing the day he decided to take her on her little trip that so inevitably escalated into so much more, begging and pleading for that 'oh so perfect' Rose Tyler to return from wherever she was.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean... yes please, Joe. I'm really sorry."

"Don't think on it, darling," he said kindly.

"Here we are then," said Joe. His mouth was set in a grim line, and Martha knew she'd hurt him.

"I'm honestly, really sorry," she said, close to tears again. He smiled, and pecked her on the cheek.

"Good night Martha, love," he said as she got out the car.

"Bye Joe." The car pulled away. With a sigh, she ran across the garden and thundered up the stairs. All the lights were turned off. "Doctor!" she called. Silence. She looked in the bedroom, the kitchen, and even the little bathroom. "Doctor!" Her heart pounded fast in her chest, tears ran down her face. He'd left, he'd really left her. "DOCTOR!"

"Martha?" there was a voice, but a woman's. She turned, it was Mrs May.

"Please," she said, scrubbing her face with the back of her hand. "Do you know where the Doctor's gone?"

"Yes dear. He went off with his friends."

"Friends? What friends? You mean... the home guard men?"

"Oh no, not those old men! No, some other men. Young. Wearing ever so odd clothes... sort of leather but trousers and shirt attached together, like overalls. And odd ears." Martha felt a little sick.

"Ears?"

"Yes. They were low down on the neck. I thought they must be brothers because both of them had low ears. And such pointed, white teeth. Now I come to think of it they may have been foreigners."

"And the Doctor went with them?"

"Well, he was asleep and they were carrying him out. And I confronted them and one said they were friends from London. And the Doctor had passed out so they were driving him to the hospital."

"And you just let him go?" Fear pounded through her body. She pushed past her landlady and ran into the street. "Where are you Doctor?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok, so now I've finished a married man (thanks for all the reviews by the way) I thought I'd complete this one! Sorry this is a bit short!**

Martha desperatly looked up and down the street, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that would aid her in finding out where the Doctor was. Looking back to where Mrs May was framed in the doorway, Martha demanded "Which way did they go? Where did they take him?"

"Oh love I couldn't say," she said symapthetically. "Is something wrong?" Martha didn't bother to reply, she ran further into the middle of the street the rain plastering her hair to her cheeks as it escaped from her fprmerly neat bun. "How long have they been gone?"

"Forty minutes? A little more maybe?"

Looking helplessly around her, Martha jumped back into the pavement as a motor car flew towards her and screeched to a halt with a spray of muddy water. Joe jumped out of the car. "Martha," he said pacing towards her. "Martha I couldn't just leave it at that. I had to come back""

"Joe," she sighed. "Not now."

"Then when Martha? I'm crazy about-"

"Joe, the Doctor's gone," she said, her voice shaky. She fought to keep control of her emotions. Joe's smile faded.

"Oh Martha," he said. "Oh darling I'm so sorry."

"No," she shook her head. "No, he hasn't left me, you don't understand. He's been kidnapped." Confused, Joe looked at her carefully.

"Are you... sure?"

"Yes I'm sure," she snapped. "Mrs May saw them take him, there were two of them. I'm not making this up!" she insisted on his sceptical look. "You've got to trust me, Joe! The Doctor is almost definitly in serious danger! I need to find him!"

"Ok," he said, after a pause. "Ok. Let me help you, then."

"Would you?"

"Course I would," he replied easily. "Where do we start?" Martha chewed her bottom lip, she hadn't even yebegun to think of where to look. Then she made a decision.

"You remember that blue box?"  
>III<p>

Martha's legs were caked in dried mud and she was soaked to the skin. They had spent the last two hours searching everywhere Martha could think of. The field where they had concealed the TARDIS, the church hall all around the village through the wind, the rain and well into the night. Mrs May had gone to bed and Joe and Martha were sat in the kitchen on the top floor drinking weak tea.

"You need to get into some warmer clothes," said Joe. "Go to bed even." Martha shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep."

"Well we can't do anything now, can we," he said. Martha rubbed her eyes.

"He could be anywhere, Joe," she said mournfully. "I don't know who took him or why. I don't know anything. We were only supposed to be here for a month. I've got no clues, no ideas, no nothing."

"Don't talk like that," he said, wrapping an arm around her and covering them both in a thin blanket for warmth. "Soon as it gets light tomorrow me and you will go out again. We'll find something."

"I hope so," she said, trying to smile a little. Joe rubbed his hand up and down her arm.

"Blimey Martha you're freezing. Let me warm you up love."

"Thanks," she muttered, staring determindly at the ground. Joe watched her as the faint shivering ceased, her eyelids grew heavy, and she finally fell asleep in his arms. Sighing heavily at the girl who would never truly love him as he loved her, he gently carried her into the bed and tucked her in, like a perfect gentleman. "Night," he whispered, and pressing a lingering kiss onto her forehead, he turned off the lights.

III

The Doctor groaned. His head was throbbing and pounding like a drum and this feeling was spreading to the rest of his body as he thought the words. Around him the cold silence was almost crushing down on him, and the air was freezing. But where was he?

The Doctor forced his heavy eyelids apart only to be rewarded with eiree blackness. Heaving himself to his feet and hissing with pain in his his head, the Doctor tried to feel about, his outstreched fingertips meeting with a wall. Slowly, and keeping his fingers pressed against the wall, he made his way round the room, his hand occasionally bumping against what he could only assume to be furniture. His hearts fluttered with hope as he found himself face to face with a wooden door, but as he groped at the roughly cut handle it would not open. His hand going to the pocket where he usually kept his sonic, he groaned when he found in empty. Instead, he ran his hands up and down the walls searcing for a light switch and this time his search was proved sucesful.

The light from the bulb that swung from the ceiling revealed a horribly unrevealing room. It just looked like some kind of study with a wooden desk and a bookshelf, not what you would expect from a cell but the outside lock ensured it served its purpose. There was no window.

The Doctor crossed over to the desk and lifted the lid. It contained nothing more than a thick wad of papers bound with some dirty string. Reasoning that he had a long time and nothing to do in it, he sat down, resting his tired back against the wall and beginning to read.

III

Martha's eyes blinked open, feeling the scratch of the rough sheets against her cheek. The room was dim a little light escaping from the thick blinds. Rubbing her eyes blearily, she sat up, and noticed in annoyance that she was still fully dressed. Then with a feeling like she was falling she remembered why she was alone.

"Morning," said a female voice that caused Martha to jump out of her skin.

"Mrs May," she said attempting a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Forgive the intrusion," she said. "I just wanted to see if your doctor was back."

"No. He's not."

"I'm sorry to hear that love," she replied. "Can I get you anything."

"No thank you," she replied. "I'll get changed."

"You do that pet," she said, leaving Martha to quickly wash and dress in any old thing she found in the wardrobe. She heard a crash in the other room, and rolled her eyes, wondering if Joe who she assumed was still in the other room had knocked something over.

"Is everything all right in there?" she called as she tugged a brush through her hair. No reply. Glancing at herself in the mirror, Martha grabebd her coat and walked into the other room. "Joe..." She gasped.

The man was slumped in the corner of the room, one quick look told Martha he was alive, just unconcious. But that wasn't the first thing she saw when the entered the room. The first thing she saw was a man with ears that were curiously low on his neck with pointed teeth and a bluish tinge to his thin face. A thin tongue darted out from betwen his teeth and he hissed.

"Where is he," she asked bravely, stepping forward. "Where's the Doctor." A rasping noise issued from the creatures throat and it pushed past her, thundering down the stairs.

"Mrs M," she muttered. Raising her voice, she ran to the top of the stairs. "Mrs May look out!" Silence. Taking the steps two at a time, Martha sighed in relief at the sight of the older woman looking out of the window, her back to Martha. "Oh thank God you're ok," she sighed. "For a moment I thought..."

"Don't you worry about me," she replied. "Worry about yourself." Martha's heart rate quickened in panic as the landlady slowly turned round to reveal a blue tinged face. Swallowing, Martha began to back away. The woman smiled leeringly at her. "Who... who are you? Where's Mrs May, what have you done with her?"

"Oh it's still me, love," she replied. "I always was like this, you know. Just had a little disguise sorted out for myself." Martha was backed up against the wall now, trapped. "Where's the Doctor?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," said the alien, or the landlady, or whoever the hell she was. She was closing in on Martha now, she could smell her stale breath, hear her excited pants. "It's been an awful long time since I tasted human flesh, Martha," she said. "I really can't wait!"

"Yeah?" said Martha, her fingers tightening behind her back into a fist. "Well go on then. Make it quick." As Mrs M advanced hungrily, Martha swung her fist behind her head and bought it forward, all the strength she possesed punching into her body. Mrs May stumbled back a little and Martha pushed past her and down the stairs. But it wasn't going to be that easy. Grunting, Martha felt a plump hand clutch at her ankle and with a small cry, she fell down. Kicking and screaming, Martha tore free from the woman, tumbling down the stairs and smacking her head against the wall. Stumbling to her feet, Martha saw another one of the blue faced aliens coming up the stairs, while Mrs M was beginning to come down them. Twisting round, Martha found herself face to face with the coridoor that their landlady have forbid them from going into. Without a second thought she sped into it, trying to wrench open door after door and finding each one locked.

Then her heart stopped.

On the ground was the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. With trembling fingers she picked it up, pocketed it, and spun around. They were gaining on her, both of them, and there was nowhere to go. Trying more and more doors, her every action becoming more and more desperate, Martha screamed in frustration. Her eyes wide and panicked, she turned round just in time for something hard and cold to connect with her skull. She slumped to the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

**I know it's been a while, but writing the beginning of my other current fic sparked something in this one. I will be writing the two of them as inspiration strikes. Please read and review, it truly makes my day.**

When Joe awoke the first thing he noticed was the silence. It unsettled him, sent goose pumps prickling up his arms as he listened intently to try and interpret the disconcerting quiet. Trying to ignore the pain in his head, Joe slowly opened his eyes.

Red flashed before him angrily and Joe groaned audibly. Slowly sitting upright he looked round the empty room. "Martha!" he hissed. "Martha!" His whisper was answered with a short scream. "Martha!" Stumbling wildly to his feet, the pain immediately gone to be replaced with cold fear, he raced down the stairs, skidding to an abrupt halt as he heard footsteps along the corridor. Slowing into a cautious tiptoe, the cockney peered down the walkway to see two figures huddled at the end. They were whispering and although Joe strained his ears he could not pick out what they were saying. Straightening up, one of the figures turned round and Joe's blood ran cold.

"Bloody hell..." This wasn't the face of a human, far from it. Blue, with ears abnormally low down, and angry, dark eyes. And slumped on the floor, previously concealed by this... monster was Martha Jones.

Joe cursed the fact he hadn't got his home guard musket with him or he would've shot the two intruders on the spot. Instead, he forced himself to stay still, trying to access if Martha was still alive. He watched as the second man (if one could call him that) hooked his strong arms around her waist and carried her roughly along the corridor. Joe tensed. If they came any closer, he knew they would be able to see where he was hiding. Preparing himself to run for his life, he held his breath. The steps got closer and closer- tap tap tap tap... Joe closed his eyes...

And the steps stopped.

Joe listened to the sound of a door being unlocked, a dull thud, and he the turning of a key. Letting out a quavering breath, he opened his eyes, just in time to catch a glimpse of one of the figures locking the door.

"It is done," one whispered in an oddly familiar, female voice. "Time to go into the village?" His senses finally returning to him, Joe sprinted up a flight of stairs and concealed himself behind a curtain, watching between the gaps in the steps as the two aliens tapped out the corridor and down the stairs. The front door slammed shut. They were gone.

And Joe began to run down the stairs.

III

"Martha, Martha, Martha..." Martha cried out a little as her eyes blinked open to the harsh light, just as the door slammed behind her. She looked up, disorientated, to the Doctor's concerned face swimming in her blurred vision.

"Doctor!" She sat up abruptly, cupping his face in her hands. "Oh my God, you're ok!"

"When am I not?" he pulled her into a hug. "What happened to you?"

"Mrs May," she said. "She turned into this... alien. There were two of them they were chasing me. I'm fine, I can't have been out for more than a minute." She let go of him, and looked around the room. "What happened to _you_?"

"More of the same. When you left with Joe, I went for a walk to the TARDIS. She's doing ok, by the way, starting to come to her senses a little more. Anyway, I was just leaving the field we left her in when something hit me on the head. I woke up here." Martha nodded.

"What's the plan?"

"Martha?" A hoarse whisper from the other side of the door caused Martha to jump out of her skin. "Martha... are you in there?"

"Who is it?" she called, her voice shaky.

"It's me, Martha. It's Joe."

"Joe," he could hear the smile in her voice. "Thank God, is everything ok?"

"I dunno Martha, there were these things... bleedin' 'ell I thought you were dead 'n all..."

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm with the Doctor." There was a brief pause on the other side of the door.

"Oh," said Joe. "Right, he was 'ere after all. Right." Martha looked at the Doctor nervously, but he ignored her.

"Right Joe," he said, shuffling closer to the door. "It's your job to think of a way for us to get out of here."

"Me?" Joe hesitated. "OK. I can do that. Just wait 'ere. I'll be back in half an hour or so. I promise."

"Wait," called Martha. "What are you going to do?" A smile spread across Joe's face.

"Just trust me."

III

"So Walker," Captain Mainwaring stood still, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "You're telling me that you went up the church tower and rung the bells which are only to be used in the instance of an invasion just so you could get everybody together to save the madman and the... black girl from where they are supposedly locked in the house of a highly reputable local woman?" Mainwaring released a short bark. "Well you've excelled yourself this time Joe. And I didn't think it would get any worse beyond the pigeon in the organ incident."

"But Mr Mainwaring sir," Joe protested. "You've gotta believe me, they're in serious trouble. I dunno what that mad woman is but she ain't no woman, captain." He turned appealingly to the rest of the platoon who were stood around him. "Come on, Sarge you believe me don't you. Taffy?"

"I knew tha' couple were trouble the second I lay my eyes on 'em," said Frazer mournfully. "Not worth the bother, Joe."

"N'ah don't say that taffy you ain't seen 'em... they're locked up like animals they are. We've gotta save them, as soldiers it's our duty to save them. Mr Mainwaring sir?" Mainwaring stood up wearily.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt Walker. We will accompany you to this so called 'cell' where the Jones girl and her... Doctor are concealed and if we don't find them there," his voice softened. "You can wave goodbye to your privileges."

"But we don't have any privileges," piped up Pike. Mainwaring rolled his eyes.

"Stupid boy," he muttered. "Right then Wilson! Jones! Frazer! Godfrey! Pike! And you too Walker..." he turned to the cockney man. "Lead the way."

III

"Martha I didn't tell you about the paperwork I found," the Doctor suddenly said. Martha sat up from where she was lay, her head resting on his chest.

"Paperwork?"

"Yeah," the Doctor got up and crossed over to the cabinet, shuffling through sheets before extracting a cardboard wallet filled with paperwork. "They were passports, identification sheets about this... species. And more importantly, the bodies they possessed." Sitting down, his back leaning against the door, the Doctor picked out a sheet at random. "Look. Real name: Hansl Weisd. Cover name: Doris Gregory."

"She's one of the women at the home guard thing!" Martha blurted out, pointing at the photo attached. "Doris Gregory... bloody hell."

"There are dozens," the Doctor said shortly. "Around fifty or sixty in total. I don't know where the species came from or why they waited until now, but I know their aim."

"Yes?"

"Winston. Churchill."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"They want to use the body of Winston Churchill. The prime minister," he added impatiently.

"I know who Winston Churchill is Doctor. But how does this link into changing time? And that was supposed to happen in the church hall. What would the PM of wartime Britain be doing here?"

"That, Martha Jones," he said. "Is what we need to a) find out and b) prevent." They sat in silence for a few comfortable moments, during which the Doctor wrapped his arm round her and stroked up and down her arm with his gentle hand. "Is your head ok?" he asked suddenly. She nodded.

"Fine. I was barely out for a second."

"Doesn't make it any less alarming," he said, gathering her into a hug. She slipped her arms around his relishing the feel of his body against hers after not knowing where he was for so long. Then came the knock at the door.

"Martha! It's me. I bought the platoon with me." Martha looked at the Doctor.

"Joe," she mouthed. He looked down.

"I can hear that." The rapping continued.

"It's me Martha, we're 'ere to 'elp you." Martha raised her voice.

"Thanks Joe. We're still here."

"God Lord!" This time it was abrupt tones of the captain. "You were telling the truth!"

"I never doubted ye for a second," Frazer was saying. Mainwaring looked up and down the corridor smugly.

"We've practised this many times, troops. Clearing a room. I trust I can put your practise into good use."

" Yessir"

"Good."

"Martha!" Joe shouted. "Get away from the door!" He listened to the sound of shuffling before he raised his rifle and fired two shots at the lock of the door. Frazer kicked down the door and Mainwaring was the first through it.

"Put your hands up!" he growled, pointing his gun at the Doctor, then at Martha, then the Doctor again. "NOW!"

"Mr Mainwaring," said Joe, stepping before him. "Sir what are you doing?"

"Stand aside Private Walker. Let the officer sort out this one."

"Joe," whispered Martha, indicating to obey the short, blustering man with a sharp motion of her head. Mainwaring was flushing now.

"You thought you got away didn't you Doctor," he hissed. "You thought you got away and all this time you were playing right into my hands!"

"Doctor! His neck!"

"I know. He's one of them." The platoon watched with bated breaths and a blue-ish tinge settled across the officer's skin. He gasped, his face seemingly smouldering at the sides and dropping to the floor only to reveal another face altogether. A smooth, light blue one with curiously low ears. He held his gun up once more and let it hover over Martha.

"Your lady first. I want you to see her die. Then you. And all your plans, all your schemes will crumble with your corpses." Martha closed her eyes, her body tensing as the plump finger squeezed against the trigger...

"NO!" It was Joe, running from the back of the crowd between her and the gun-wielding officer. Martha screamed as she heard the crack of the gun and the Doctor pulled her down to the floor, her vision spinning into a confusing vortex of shape and colour.

"Joe!" she shouted, stumbling to her feet. He was slumped on the floor beside Mainwaring or the alien who had taken the form of Mainwaring at least, and as far as Martha could see, he was completely still. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no please no."

"Martha," the Doctor held her back as she tried to run towards the still figure slumped across the carpet. "Martha hush now. It's fine, I promise you it's fine." She was crying in earnest now, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh God," she choked. "How can it be fine?" The Doctor wrapped her into a long hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Then, to the rest of the men, he spoke louder. "Frank, Mr Frazer I want you to take that man-" he pointed to the alien. "And lock him in the room next door. There are individual keys for every room; they're in the key cabinet at the end of the corridor. The two men nodded solemnly and dragged the alien to his feet before disappearing down the corridor.

Martha emerged from the hug, pale and shaky. "Doctor," she began weakly, but now he was smiling.

"No, Martha," he said. "No, look." And Joe Walker sat up.

Martha thought she was going to faint. She swallowed deeply, her eyes searching for any wounds that would account for the fact that a bullet went straight into his chest. "What the..."

"The Doctor warned me," said Joe. "He said he noticed something odd about the way Mainwaring was acting, he said to wear one of these." He unbuttoned his uniform top to reveal an old metal bin lid. He grinned. "Bullet proof vest."

"But when..."

"The job interview was when I noticed," the Doctor said, resting a hand on her waist. "About Mainwaring. I warned all the men to wear one as a precaution." He beamed at her. "See, it's all ok." But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he'd said something wrong.

"You warned all of the men," she repeated. "But you didn't think to warn me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for the continued interest- and sorry for the extremely out of character Doctor in this chapter!**

The Doctor stopped. Still. He turned to Martha, recoiling at the hurt and anger that flashed in her tone, and a blush settled on his cheeks. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, searching deep within him for the words that would make it all right. She sighed, disappointed.

"That's what I thought." She turned her back to him, making to walk up the stairs to their floor to cool off. She heard the Doctor call her name out but continued to walk, biting hard on her lip to keep her emotions in check. This was getting ridiculous, she told herself as she stepped smartly up the stairs. Every time she allowed herself to slip back into believing that maybe yes, he did have some feelings for her, every time she unlocked her heart from its carefully constructed cage and lay it out for him to take, he trampled it to the floor. So many times and she still hadn't learn to keep her distance.

She flung herself through the door and into the bedroom, silently fuming. "Stupid, stupid stupid!" She glared at herself resentfully in the grimy mirror. "And you were always supposed to be the smart one. Why do you let him do this to you? Every bloody day!" She stood up and walked towards the mirror, the fury tensing her face slowly resolving into determination. "You're not going to let yourself fall into this trap again," she told her reflection. "The next time he shows you any affection, any at all, you're gunna ignore it. Just like he ignores you all the bloody time. He has got no right to treat you like this, and don't you forget it." She began to pace up and down. "In no way can you let that smile affect you like it did before, Martha. Cos no matter how flirty he comes across as, to him it's just a way to kill the time, before the next Rose Tyler comes along. And you'll be cast into the background again. He may not be human, but he's no better than any other man you could meet in any old bar. Don't waste your life pining for him. You've got to distance yourself now, before it's too late." Her pacing increased in speed. "And another thing," she added, her voice rising. "Next time a guy asks you out on a date, don't spend hours agonizing over what the Doctor thinks about it. Because he'll do his 'injured come back and fall head over heels in love with me' routine before not bothering to acknowledge my existence. Why should you be guilty? He's the one that kissed you on the moon before spending months going on and on about his ex lover while you just followed him like a little puppy. How stupid are you? He doesn't love you. He might like you, but just as another human to talk at, to make some noise and fill some space in the TARDIS for a little while. And he never will love you. So why do you keep letting him treat you like this?" She slumped down on the bed; her face flushed with a mixture of anger and twisted triumph.

"Actually," said a quiet voice from the doorway. "You were never just there to fill the TARDIS. Or to follow me around like a puppy." Martha didn't turn around, just hunched her knees up to her chest defensively.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked the space in front of her.

"Since the part about ignoring my affections." She nodded, not allowing herself to be embarrassed about what she had said.

"It seemed the most sensible course of action." She heard him take a step closer, his shoes squeaking on the floor.

"Why?"

Martha let out a short chuckle. "Were you not listening?" He sighed.

"Can I sit with you?"

"If you like." Martha remained motionless as he slowly walked past her and sat beside her on the bed. Her skin prickled as she felt his gaze resting on her.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Oh you think." He ignored the hardness in her words, and looked away.

"Yeah I probably deserved that. Listen Martha... please just look at me." Martha slowly turned her head to face him, her face expressionless. He swallowed. "I'm sorry." She looked away almost immediately.

"Original."

"Will you just listen to me!" he snapped. "Martha, I'm sorry that I didn't give you a body protector. I guess I thought I'd be there to protect you so you wouldn't need one." Martha shook her head, a joyless smile distorting her mouth.

"You think that's what this is about?"

"No! What I mean is, I'm sorry for ignoring you. And not appreciating you. And for making you feel guilty about your... date with Joe." He smiled hopefully at her. "Well?" Martha spun round

"Oh Doctor what a heartfelt apology," she spat. "I'm so happy you've put me out of my misery by saying that. Please!" She fought to keep control of her temper. "Doctor. Just say sorry. And make me believe it." She fixed him with willing eyes, so full of strength he couldn't help but be transfixed with them.

"Well... I... uhm..."

"You thought that would be enough to get me back didn't you," said Martha, standing up, fury contorting her face. "Repeat back a few truths, slap on your 'regretful face' and speak a little slower than usual. You actually thought that would be enough!"

"You know what! I did." The Doctor jumped to his feet. Because I didn't realize you'd be so hard to please! Martha I can take you any place any time. You can see amazing things every day and it's still not enough for you! Why? It was enough for Rose!" The room was filled with a brittle silence. Tears spurted down Martha's cheeks.

"I AM NOT ROSE TYLER!" she shouted, her body shaking in anger.

"Martha-"

"No!" she stepped away from his outstretched arm. "Just go!"

"Wait!" he grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to stay still. She twisted angrily in his arm.

"Let go of me!"

"Just hear me out!" She stopped struggling and looked up at him defiantly. He dropped his arms to his side. "It would've been enough for Rose," he repeated slowly. Martha looked down at her feet, and opened her mouth to reply, but he spoke first. "It was enough for her to travel to amazing world and meet amazing people. It was enough for her just to leave her boring planet and get some time out of it all, because that's all traveling with me was to her. A way out. And yeah that made everything a lot easier for both parties but it wasn't... stimulating in any way. She was so easily impressed, 19 years old when she came with me, and never really left London. But you're different, Martha. You're not a child looking for some time out from your life. You're a well-established person who knows her own mind and knows exactly what she wants. You make me work harder to impress you... remember the first time I showed you my sonic? Didn't exactly dazzle you because you're not innocent enough for that. You make me think before I do anything, think because I know you're not so naive that you'll be impressed by cheap tricks with the sonic. And you make me stop, before I go that little bit too far." He paused to study her response. She wasn't speaking, or moving. Just looking down at the floor, waiting for him to continue.

"I know I compare you to Rose sometimes," he admitted, dropping his head. "And I can't say I know why, because you two are so... different. Our relationship- mine and yours that is- didn't slip into place like it did with Rose and I. With Rose it was... convenient. It seemed so easy for her to just disappear with me, no commitments or adult responsibilities tying her down. We could just go... and we did. Like I said I could impress her like 'that' and we could go places without worrying about having to go home sometime soon. But with you... it didn't seem convenient Martha. You were a medical student with a demanding job and bills to pay on top of a family to keep in order. But we still found a way to spend time together, and I'm thinking and I can't honestly say that if Rose didn't want to come with me straight away I would've fought for her. Like I fought for you. I even had to prove it wasn't some joke to persuade you to come with me! And that's what makes you different from her. Being with Rose was simple, like a story. Everything just fell into place. But this is the real world, and here that just doesn't happen. You have to work on relationships, put time into them. And that's what I'm prepared to do with us, Martha." He hesitated. "What I'm really trying to say is... I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I'm just so... obtuse sometimes. I should have told you how I felt such a long time ago, spared us all this pain."

Martha nodded, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Do you miss her?" she asked quietly. He pursed his lips, before nodding.

"I do."

"Do you love her?" she asked, a faint tremor elongating her final words. He shook his head.

"Rose was then. Right now, you're what's most important to me."

"And you really meant all that stuff?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Martha," he said. "I know it's not enough just to say it, but I promise you, I'm prepared to work on some things to sort this all out." She sniffed in a sob.

"Thank you," she said. He smiled tentatively, shuffling from one foot to the other. She rolled her eyes, and pulled him into a hug.

He hugged her back tightly, the crushing weight from his chest lifted as soon as he felt her pressed against him. He felt another sob shake through her and he held on, relishing the moment she'd allowed herself to look past his flaws- of which there were many- and begun to forgive him.

"If I find out your were bullshitting me," she said, her voice a little muffled. "You are in so much trouble, mate." He chuckled, burying his face in her hair.

"I wouldn't dare," he replied. "I simply wouldn't dare."

III

Joe sighed as he slumped down onto the bottom step of the winding staircase, taking off his hat and fanning himself with it. "They've been up there for a good half hour now, Taffy," he said.

"Aye," replied the Scotsman. "And on a Sunday too."

"Nah shut up!" Joe protested. "They ain't like that Taff, you know that."

"Ah I forgot about your little date with the coloured girl," Frazer said, his beady eyes glinting. "How did that go?"

"Leave it, Frazer, come on now," said Wilson, coming over to them and sitting beside Joe. "I really think we should start making a move."

"No, Mr Wilson, we 'ave to wait for Martha to come down. We need to make sure she's all right." Joe looked warily up the stairs. "D'you reckon I could go and check on 'er?"

"No," said Wilson sternly. "We can't interrupt them, Joe. It simply isn't fair."

III

The Doctor released her from the hug, and they both smiled at one another, exhausted from the emotions they had let out in the last ten minutes. "I'm sorry, Doctor," Martha said. "I didn't mean to be so harsh to you."

"It's not like I didn't deserve it," he shrugged. "So what shall we do now?"

III

"Walker!" Wilson hissed up the stairs to where the cockney was standing outside the door leading to the Doctor and Martha's flat. "Walker get down!"

"Sssh! I'm trying to listen!" Joe pressed his ear against the door and immediately picked up Martha's voice. His blood ran cold as he heard what they were saying.

"Oh God Doctor. This is..."

"I know."

"It feels so good! Mmmm!" Joe flushed in horror, but he couldn't tear his ear away from the door. Surely they couldn't be...

"It's just so big!"

"Oh Lord!" Joe spluttered, jumping away from the door in such haste he fell flat on his arse. Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and the Doctor opened it. Joe blushed harder.

"Ah Mr Walker!" the Doctor grinned. "Martha, Joe's here!" Martha joined him at the door, fully clothed. Joe blinked.

"Err..."

"Sorry we were so long," said Martha. "The Doctor made me a cooked breakfast- sausages, bacon, the works. I can't remember the last time I had a proper meal here." She smiled. "Care to join us?"

**Sorry I couldn't resist!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys. It's starting to feel like every chapter I post starts with a little A/N apologising for why this chapter took so bloody young to upload, and this is no different. I've been taking a long hard think about what I actually want from this website and this isn't it. I don't want this to become a chore, because this is what I love doing, perhaps more than anything else at the moment. You can go to my profile for the long version, but this time, I am really going to try very hard to upload more regularly with these 2 stories I'm on at the moment. Those of you who are still with me, I want to thank for the your incredible support. It feels like a bit of a one sided relationship with you being so supportive and me not offering much on my side, something I hope will change. You reviews will get me through these final few chapters, and then I go back to writing something I am more enthusiastic about. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy.**

"Alright then Doctor," said Joe Walker, taking a long drag from the cigarette he held between second and third finger. "I think it's time you explained to the likes of us, what the hell is going on." The Doctor nodded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely!" They were gathered in a small, study like room on the ground floor of Mrs May's giant mansion- a room alive with plush armchairs in a deep green and a small cabinet with expensive looking cigars and liquor. The Doctor was stood, leant against the wall of the room while the men of the Home Guard platoon were scattered about the place, on chairs and sofas. The room was hot and stuffy, filled with smoke and the uneasy atmosphere following the sudden disappearance of their leader. Martha was sat on the chair nearest to where the Doctor was stood. The Doctor coughed slightly. "Absolutely!" he said again. Frazer tutted impatiently.

"Well do ye know what yeh plannin' on sayin' or don't ye, man! We wannae hear this, don' we lads!" The Doctor fixed him with a reproachful stare.

"Patience is a virtue," he said crossly. "I'm just deciding where to begin."

"Me and the Doctor are from the future," Martha broke in. The Doctor stared at her for a second, then lowered his head in admittance.

"Yep. That's where I wanted to begin."

"From the future!" said Pike, rising from his chair in the far corner. "Are you really?"

"Nah, don't be stupid spikey," Jones chuckled. "Miss Martha 'ere ain't being serious."

"The blue box you found in the middle of your hall?" the Doctor said hesitantly. "Is called the TARDIS. I'm not going to go into the details now, but basically... it's our transport. Through time. Martha here is from the year 2007."

"No," said Frazer firmly. "Now look here, this situation is dire enough without bringing in ridiculous... made up stories of the supernatural into this. Now ye either tell us what really just happened in there or leave it to the military to sort this one out, you hear me lad?"

"No wait a second, Frazer," Wilson said gently. He turned to look at the pair. "I think they may be telling the truth. What about the strange clothes they turned up in? The way they talk? The things they talk about? Do you remember the novel, The Time Machine?"

"Are you seriously saying..."

"I could prove it to you," Martha found herself saying. She felt in her pocket and bought out her mobile phone. Switching it on- there seemed no point wasting battery when there was nobody here she'd be able to contact- she held it up for the men to look at. "This is how we talk to each other in 2007," she said. "It's like a telephone but you can carry it around with you. There are pictures on it. Coloured pictures on the screen that can change." She flicked through her album. "That's one of me and my sister at a party. That's my friend, Oliver from work. That's my Dad."

"Martha," the Doctor murmured through the corner of his mouth. "Probably not the best idea."

"I have to make them see somehow," she replied. "And we don't have much time. Tell them about the TARDIS." The Doctor sighed, clearly uncomfortable about how much of his life he was revealing to these men from the past.

"Now, my time ship crashed here, right in your church hall. We'd just been to the year 1913 and I hadn't intended upon coming here at all. The TARDIS sensed that something wrong was going to happen here, well in the church hall. Something bad. Somebody changing the path of time. There are certain points in time that are fixed. That you can't change, you just can't. And somebody's going to." Frazer stood up again.

"Hang on, hang on," he said. "If ye are tellin' the truth, _if_ you are, then ye'll be able to be tellin' us who's going to win this war, aye?" A tense hush settled over the room, all eyes fixed on the Doctor. He shook his head.

"I can't tell you something like that," he said quietly. "It's never good for anybody to know too much about their own future." Frazer spat.

"Well ye would say that wouldn't ye," he sat down and folded his arms. "I don't believe it for a second."

"I do," said Joe. "What about that phone thing! Everything they're telling us makes sense. Give them a chance, Taffy!"

"The TARDIS will take a month to recover," the Doctor said. "And we have to live here, as people of this time, until that happens. In the meantime, Martha and I have been finding out a few things about this time changing incident. And, obviously, we've run into these aliens!"

"Aliens!"

"Well surely you didn't think those blue things were human!" the Doctor scoffed. "There are over fifty of them in Warbington on Sea alone. They look like normal people, like Mainwaring, but really they're this alien species I am yet to identify. And they want something. Something that requires them to change time in order to get it."

"What?" Jones whispered.

"That, Mr Jones," the Doctor said, whirling his sonic round in his thin fingers. "Is what we need to find out."

"We know they want to use the body of the prime minister as a host," Martha said. "They want him to become like them."

"But we don't know how they aim to get to him," the Doctor said. He looked up to see the men all looking at one another, not sure of whom was going to speak. "What?"

"Haven't you heard," Joe said slowly. "They've been planning it for months."

"Planning what for months?" the Doctor asked slowly.

"Old Churchill's doing a tour," Jones said. "Of all the home guards in the south. He's coming tomorrow. Mr Mainwaring planned a big parade. Today's meeting was meant to be a last rehearsal."

"So Winston Churchill is coming to Warbington on Sea to see the platoon run by a man who is really an alien who wants Churchill for his specie's plan," said the Doctor slowly.

"We just have to find out what said plan is," said Martha. The Doctor spun.

"What time is Churchill due tomorrow?"

"The parade's at three," said Pike. "The whole village is coming to watch it."

"The whole village, many of whom are the aliens," said Martha slowly.

"Right then," said the Doctor. "We need to find a way to communicate with these aliens and find out what they want. And what it would take for them to stop what they are about to do."

"You make it all sound so easy," Joe chuckled.

"We will think of something," said Martha. "We have to."

III

Half an hour or so later, the men began to wander out of the house with the intention of meeting in the church hall in an hour. Wilson had reluctantly agreed to 'take charge' of the men until the time came that Mainwaring was able to return. Should he be able to of course. As she left the room they had all been sat in, Martha felt a slight pressure on her arm and she turned to see Joe smiling at her nervously. She returned to gesture. "Hey."

"Martha," he said. "I just wanted to... to uhm... to make sure you're ok now. I didn't really have a chance to ask... before."

"I'm fine thanks," she nodded, turning away.

"No wait!" Joe sighed. "Listen Martha are you and the Doctor now... together if you know what I mean. Not that it matters to me, I was only asking."

Martha tilted her head to one side. "You know," she said musingly. "I have absolutely no idea."

"So once this is all over," Joe said. "A little... trip to the cinema would be out of the question I suppose?"

"It would, yes," Martha smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"Oi Joe!" Pike yelled from the other room. "You coming or not?"

"Yeah!" he yelled back, touching his cap briefly. "Yeah I should be off."

"Oh and Joe!" Martha stopped him and smiled widely. "Thanks for saving my life." Joe grinned back.  
>"Oh yeah," he said offhandishly. "I suppose I did do that an' all." And with that he strode out of the building.<p>

III

The men walked together out of the large house in small groups. Frazer, Pike and Wilson had fallen back to wait for Walker and they all smiled at him as he shut the door behind him- well all except Frazer but Joe really didn't expect any different. "What you all standin' around for ya muppets?" he called out.

"Did ya score?" Frazer shouted at him, his Scottish accent only adding to the aggression of his tone.

"What?"

"The Jones girl!" he barked.

"I saw you talking with her," Pike grinned. "She's ever so glamorous isn't she, Joe. Aren't any girls like her in Warbington on Sea, aye Uncle?"

"Martha's... different," Joe shrugged.

"So..." Frazer made a sound of frustration at the back of his throat in reply to Joe's blank look. "Did you get her?" Walker looked blankly ahead of them still. "For Christ's sake man!"

"No, Frazer," Wilson whispered. "Look." Frazer paled as he turned ahead to look at what the other men were staring at. His jaw dropped.

"Mother of mercy..."

III

When Martha found him, the Doctor was sat on the bed clearly deep in thought. He tossed his sonic screwdriver from one hand to the next, catching it neatly each time. She spoke, announcing herself. "Penny for them?"

"Huh?" he looked up, startled, the sonic skidding out of his grip and clattering onto the floor. He rolled his eyes, jumping to his feet. "Nice one, Doctor," he muttered, catching it up with his slender fingers. He tucked it into his chest pocket and crossed over to the small window.

"We're meeting in the hall in just under an hour," Martha told him.

"No we're not," he said darkly.

"Yes we are-"

"No, Martha." The Doctor took her hand and pulled her over to the window. "We're not." The protest rising in Martha's throat died away into nothing as she surveyed the scene below them.

"Oh," she finally managed. "Right." It was truly like visiting a museum of recent history. Outside of the window, it seemed the whole village had gathered in an array of what any 21st century girl would affectionately call 'vintage' attire. From the mid length dresses of the mothers, to the smart suits and ties of the men to the children standing with large hoops. The aspect of the scene that bought the museum to mind was the way the collection of residents were stood, unmoving. Their eyes were fixed on the house.

Stood nervously in the gateway of the large garden was the home guard. Wilson looked up at them in the window, unsure of what to do. He cleared his throat and directed his voice at the crowd. "I say! There's nothing to see here!" It was as if his voice had woken them from a trance. With a flurry of motion everything they held in their hands was dropped. They were about to change. Martha leant out the window and yelled.

"Get in the house!" The men didn't need to be told twice, they quickly filed back into the mansion slamming the door behind them. She turned to the Doctor. "What do you reckon they want?"

"Us to stop messing around in their master plan probably." He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Ah well." As he walked away from the window, dropping her hand, Martha could tell that he felt back in familiar and comfortable territory. Back away from the complicated mess that was domestic life and throwing himself straight back into the line of fire. In hindsight, that was when she realised. That as soon as they stepped back onto the TARDIS together- assuming they did of course, as with any other adventure survival was never 100% guaranteed- he would never look at her in the same way he had been for these past few days.

"Doctor," she said sharply, pushing meaningless personal thoughts to the back of mind. "They've transformed."

"All of them?"

"All of them. They're coming up the pathway."

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to sort out the front garden," the Doctor mused. "It wasn't like we were staying..." his thoughts drifted away, his brain was working overtime, she could tell. Her heart pounded at the sound of pounding footsteps up the staircase, but it was only the men.

"I'll position the men at every window. They have their weaponry-"

"As brilliant as it is to see you taking some control of the platoon Sergeant, that really isn't a good idea. Let's keep mindless shooting on the down low."

"They're beating down the door," Martha called from the window as the men began to settle in the hallway outside of their bedroom. "They're going to get inside." The Doctor strode past the crowd of men purposefully.

"Martha, with me."

"What are you doing?" protested Wilson.

"You too, Sergeant. Joe, Frazer, Pike. The rest of you... oh I don't know. Wait here." The six of them thundered down the endless flights of the stairs in pursuit of the Doctor.

"But what are we doing?" Joe cried.

"We're getting these aliens off of this planet for good," said the Doctor. "Oh else, who knows what they'll do."


End file.
